Hot Chocolate and Pain
by fit-for-fitch
Summary: Jimmy Novak is schizophrenic and is just trying to live a normal life. He manages pretty well until there's a murder in his neighborhood. He watches his life fall apart at the seams after that and gives up. That is, until his neighbor, Dean, takes him in and gets him back on his feet. Too bad Dean's a little crazy too. Domestic, hurt/comfort and angst. Jimmy/Dean.
1. Prologue

**Author's note: This prologue is a very graphic description of a murder! It isn't required you read this to understand the rest of the story so feel free to skip it if you don't want the gore!**

The earth seemed to shake as young Evan Foster fell to the ground, struggling in agony under his attacker. He tried to scream, but he knew well that no one else was around, a lost cause for him. The other man jumped on top of him, the knife he held pressed close to Evan's exposed throat. The man smiled and teased the blade over his skin before making a quick, deep gash with the sharp butcher knife. Evan's jugular was slashed obliquely, blood spurting over Evan's chest and stomach, his killer's hands and arms and face being spattered with blood. Evan bled out relatively quickly and the killer began his mutilations, his gloved hands pulling and ripping and tearing at Evan's flesh. He pulled out chucks of his victim's skin, clawing him and cutting him up, stabbing him through the shoulders and chest and neck, running him through so many times in the neck that his victim was almost completely decapitated, the spine shown as his head fell back away from the rest of his body, small tendrils of flesh connecting it loosely, severed arteries dangling away from the inside of his body. The killer grinned sickly and cut off the man's hands, slicing through muscle and chopping aggressively through the sunk the blade deep into Evan's chest and ran it slowly down the length of his body, slicing him open and exposing what was inside. He reached in and wrapped his long fingers around Evan's intestines, pulling them out slowly and watching as the exposed entrails glistened moistly under the dim light. The killer struggled not to lick or bite the tempting flesh. He reached in with the other hand and raked out the rest of his victim's guts, laughing loudly and tossing the entrails aside, reaching into Evan's chest and sinking his fingers into one of his lungs, yanking on it violently, a chunk of the flesh coming away in his gloved hand. He tossed the chunk of lung aside, his hands finding their way up to the ribs. He spread them aside and pulled on them until they snapped, the bones distorting their shapes and pulling them away. He shoved his hand deeper into the victim's chest cavity, wrapping his fingers around Evan's heart. He pulled hard for a while, the branches of the organ straining almost impossibly until they finally snapped and the heart came away, blood spurting even more over the killer's crushed the muscle in his hand and let the blood leak out over himself. He watched sadistically as he tossed the heart down angrily, bringing up the knife to slowly slice cuts into Evan's face, mutilating him further. He cut off large chunks of his skin around his arms and face and what remained of his neck. He piled up the bits of skin that he removed. He purred at the sight of his victim laying there torn into pieces, satisfied with his work. He gently rubbed at Evan's cheek with his bloodstained gloves, smearing him with it in the form of fingerprints, though there were no clear prints attainable as evidence for later. He got to his feet and looked down on the man, laying there in shreds. He took in the sight of the torn tissues and muscles hanging in strings, his body completely desecrated. He sighed in satisfaction, shaking the shreds of flesh and muscles off of his hands, laughing at the blood he was slinging, the once white gloves now soaked and crimson. He went to finish his job and walked himself home along the deserted streets of the painfully early morning. He dragged over the man he had drugged earlier, grinning as he picked up Evan's entrails and threw them onto the other man's shirt, laughing hysterically as he pulled the man's hands over to Evan's corpse, smearing his hands over the body, covering the body in bloody fingerprints. He wrapped the man's hand around the handle of the knife he had used to carve up the victim, smiling wolfishly and piling the intestines of young Evan Foster back onto the victim's stiffening corpse, rigor mortis starting to set in, Evan's lips and fingertips turning blue, his skin pale and drained, his blood in a pool below his body. The murderer smiled and picked up the man he was to frame, placing him back in his hijacked car and closing the doors, leaving him there until he woke up. He knew that he would not remember what had happened for likely the entire rest of the night. He was probably going to wake up in a trance, get himself home, and then passing out as soon as he got there, waking up with no recollection at all of what could have happened. With any luck, people would see him with the blood smeared all over his clothes. The murderer changed out of his own bloodstained clothing and tried not to hang about in the area for too horribly long, making his way back to his hide out to await the news of the man he'd framed being convicted.


	2. Chapter One

Jimmy Novak whistled to himself as he enjoyed his daily stroll in the deserted local park, fists shoved into the pockets of his long, tan coat as he puffed along in the cold winter air. He smiled at the crunch of leaves and frost under his boots, the sound echoing off of dead trees and frozen light poles as he passed them. The world was almost right, except for the whispering in his ears. Jimmy blissfully ignored them. He had gotten good at that. Since he was first diagnosed with schizophrenia at the age of 18, Jimmy had refused medication for his illness. He had learned ways of coping, and luckily he was not severely sick with the disorder. He was still able to enjoy his life despite his difficulties, and even with his illness, he lived a rather normal life for a 34-year-old man in Kansas. He had a wife and a daughter, a small house and a boring job selling ad space on one of the local radio stations. He was on his way home from work at the moment, taking the path through the park to kill two birds with one stone, as he had to help his daughter, Claire, with a school project that night and wouldn't have time later. It took him about half an hour to get to his house, walking at a leisurely pace and enjoying the feeling of the frosty air biting at his cheeks and nose, the tips of his hair wet from melting snow dripping down from the tree branches above him and onto his head. He smiled as he saw his house come into view, walking along in the middle of the street. This neighborhood was very often dead in the middle of the day, most people either still at work or having dinner, warm in their houses. He got out his keys, approaching his house and unlocking the door, the lock stiff with moisture frozen by the cold air. He pulled the door open with a bit of effort, smiling happily as Claire bounded over to him, throwing herself at him and hugging him excitedly. Jimmy beamed down at her, picking her up and hugging her back tight, twirling her in a little circle before putting her down and walking further into the house, shutting the door behind him, going to find his wife.  
Amelia was standing just inside the dinning room door, surveying the room with satisfaction. The noticeable sparkle on every surface in the room and the smells of several types of household cleaner suggested she was appreciating her handiwork, and Jimmy snuck up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek and neck happily. She jumped a little, caught off guard, but laughed when she turned to see Jimmy.  
"Well, you're home a little early today. Did you run away from the office again, or did you just hurry your butt up getting home?" she asked with a small kiss to her husband's chapped lips.  
Jimmy smiled at his wife's wit. "A little of both," he admitted, swaying her side to side in a way almost like dancing, enjoying the feeling of her long blonde hair against his cheek as he pressed his nose to her neck, just behind her ear. "I've missed you today, Em," he whispered, able to feel her smile as he kissed her cheek. Just as she turned to give him a passionate kiss, Claire walked into the room, arms crossed and a stern expression on her face. Well, as stern an expression as a small thirteen year old girl could have while also not trying to burst out laughing. Jimmy and Amelia pulled away from each other, Amelia laughing happily at her husband's flushed cheeks, the look of startled embarrassment on his face one that she was very used to after having been married to the shy man for little over twelve years. She huffed softly, shooing Claire off to go start on her homework before pulling Jimmy in by his tie, his blue eyes going wide as she whispered something into his ear about her plans for that night. She walked off with a sly smirk on her face, her hips swinging proudly under her pale green dress. Jimmy suddenly noticed how unfair it was that it was cut to mid-thigh, and watched her legs as she left, standing there in a disappointed haze for a moment before running a hand through his black hair, sighing loudly and heading up the stairs to change out of his suit and coat into a pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt. Now that he wasn't at the office, he could dress and act as lazily as he wanted, and he planned to take advantage of that. He wandered over to a bookshelf in his and Amelia's room, pulling a novel off of the top shelf and heading downstairs, sitting on the couch and reading until Claire had finished up her other school work and was ready to start on the project she had had looming over her for the whole week. Jimmy was a little disappointed that she had procrastinated until the night before the due date, but thinking back on his own days in school, he couldn't rightly blame her. Procrastination seemed to be a curse on his family, and it was also a bug that his wife had caught in junior year of high school when they had started dating. A lot of things happened with her junior year, if he thought about it, which brought a tinge of pink back to Jimmy's cheeks.  
Just as he decided to get back to his reading, he heard someone whisper his name, making him jump hard. He sighed as he turned and nothing was there, rolling his eyes. When he turned back to the book, the words seemed to shake and tremble, red blotting the pages. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, opening them back up to see that the vision was gone. He hissed in annoyance, his head starting to hurt a bit. He sat the book aside, the pages spread open to mark his place, and went to go find Amelia again. She was in the kitchen making dinner, and turned with a pouty look on her face when he entered. "You could help, you know," she said snidely, but smiled and pulled him closer, her arms around his neck and her nose touching his. "So, sweetie, what can mamma Em do for you, hm?" He relaxed into her, focusing on the loving tone of her voice. She was obviously able to recognize by looking at him that Jimmy had been spooked by something he'd seen and was going about trying to calm him down. She twirled him in circles, humming the tune to "Bad Moon Rising", his favorite song. Once Jimmy was sure what he experiencing was real, he started to hum along, letting himself smile as his heartbeat slowed a little. He pulled Amelia into a kiss, her humming dying away as their lips met. Jimmy looked up at her with a smile as they pulled away from each other. "Now, how can I help with dinner?" he asked with a hint of a purr in his voice.  
Most of the time they spent preparing dinner was actually just Jimmy standing behind Amelia, arms wrapped around her as he swayed her side to side and they talked about anything and everything, Amelia occasionally asking him to get her something, but for the most part seemed content with Jimmy staying right where he was. Dinner came before Claire finishing her work, and the three of them settled in around the table in the dinning room, Jimmy trying to hide the way he kept looking at Amelia, but judging by Claire's unexplained giggling through the whole meal, she noticed each and every time. They prayed and ate and then went right back to their lives, Claire finally finishing her other homework and going to steal Jimmy back from her mom's embarrassing teasing. Even though Jimmy was nearly constantly distracted the whole time (especially when Amelia would walk by and slap his ass a little too overtly), they managed to get the project completed before Claire's bed time. Jimmy sent her to bed and eagerly went to find his wife. She was already in their room when Jimmy went in, and he was pleasantly surprised with what she was wearing and the way she was laying on the bed. She kept her promise of what she would be doing for him that night, but Jimmy was a bit too quick about it and Amelia felt it neccisary to punish him. Maybe he enjoyed his punishment a little bit too much, but he would never admit that. He would actually never admit any of this. Jimmy was under the firm belief that what happened in their room was their business and he wasn't going to go and blab to anyone about it. That of course didn't stop Amelia from doing so, but maybe Jimmy didn't know about that. Maybe Jimmy would prefer whoever's writing this to shut up about the matter and move on, though it isn't like he gets a say. He went to sleep content that night, regardless. Sore, but content.  
He woke up to a loud crash in an empty, cold bed, light flooding into his eyes as he snapped them open wide with shock. He sat bolt upright, looking around cautiously for the source of the sound, but not finding anything. He pulled himself from the messy sheets, pulling on some discarded clothes and making his hair marginally less ridiculous before dragging himself down the stairs. Thank god for Fridays, as he didn't have to go in for work. He approached the coffee maker with a bit of caution, filling it with water and ground coffee beans, closing the lid and turning it on, a mug placed beneath the spout. He stood there silently, leaning against the fridge for support, his legs still shaking hard from the previous night. As soon as his cup was full of coffee, he took it from under the machine and took a drink, nearly gagging at the taste but too tired and lazy to put in creamer and sugar as he usually did. Coffee in hand, he set off to look around the house in search of his wife. It was a decently sized house, in Jimmy's opinion. Big enough to be considered a little fancier than average, but not so extravagant that he and his wife couldn't afford it. After doing a few rounds of the house, Jimmy still hadn't found Amelia. Under the assumption that she wasn't just tucked away somewhere hiding and possibly waiting to scare him, he came to the conclusion she must still be out of the house after taking Claire to school. He got out his phone and dialed her number, shuffling his feet as it rang. She picked up a moment later with a cheerful greeting of "hey baby". Jimmy purred into the phone. "Good morning, sweetheart," he returned, laughing a little. "Am I going nuts or are you out of the house this morning?"  
"A girl's gotta get some shopping in at some point, Jimmy."  
He chuckled, accustomed to his wife's random shopping trips by now. He chatted with her until she insisted she had to go and find some shoes, saying that the phone would be too distracting. Jimmy tried to convincer her otherwise, but he couldn't really argue with her after she referred to the shopping trip as "her eternal quest to find the perfect shoes in a size small enough for her size 6 feet". Jimmy wished her Godspeed and hung up, going to find that novel he had been reading the night before and sitting down on the couch to continue it, smiling as he saw Amelia had put a bookmark into the pages before shutting it and placing it on the table. He curled his legs under him and parked himself on the couch for the next few hours, sitting aside the coffee cup once it was empty and focusing solely on his book.  
Growing up, reading had always been one of Jimmy's favorite activities. His schizophrenia meant that he could often vividly picture the scenes from books, the characters sometimes literally coming to life before his eyes. He rather often saw and spoke to people and creatures that weren't there in reality, including an angel named Castiel, so it was actually rather easy for him to visualize even the most superhuman of characters from the books he read. The novel he had chosen from the shelf had been one that Amelia had bought, read and recommended to him about a month ago. He had never quite gotten around to reading it, but tried to pick up on it whenever he had some free time. It was something about these two men who hunted various supernatural creatures. One of them reminded him of his neighbor, Dean. They even had the same first name. They didn't seem too much alike at first, but it you thought of Jimmy's neighbor as a more "average Joe" version of the book character, the resemblance was there, especially since Jimmy's neighbor drank a lot. He had served in the Marine Corps, just like his father had, and since he came back from where ever he had been stationed, he wasn't the same man.  
Jimmy didn't know Dean very well, but they had gone to the same middle and high schools and had almost grown up together. Dean was from Lawrence originally, but he and his dad moved to Kansas City after his mom died in a fire at their old house. Apparently he had a younger brother, but all Jimmy knew about him was that he had been living with Dean's uncle after the fire and had gone on to grow into a respectable lawyer and marry a beautiful woman, most of which he had heard via the grapevine of gossip spreading through the neighborhood following Dean's arrival. Dean was more or less a bully in their school days, and Jimmy had been a blinking painted target, what with his glasses and buck teeth and later on his braces and acne. He and Dean still weren't particularly close as adults, but were at least on speaking terms on the uncommon occasion of Dean leaving his house for more than however long it took to sprint to the mailbox, retrieve the contents and sprint back. Jimmy knew that Dean didn't have a job, or at leat not one that required some kind of commute, and was fairly certain he also didn't work from home. He could have gotten a job as a mechanic if he was willing to leave the house, but Jimmy thought it best not to judge him. Though he wasn't sure what they were, Jimmy thought it very likely that Dean had a lot of problems for one man to handle on his own.  
He reflected on all of this while he read, remembering all his failed attempts to become Dean's friend. It wasn't that Dean was rude or overtly mean, but Jimmy could sense that him being around made the man uncomfortable, so he decided to give him some space. They had gone out to get coffee one time about a year ago and never again since. Amelia still referred to it as "Jimmy's little date with Heartbreak Hotel" and liked to joke about how Jimmy was so crushed that Dean never called him or asked for a second date, asking her husband if it was maybe just because he gave bad head. Jimmy didn't find this funny, but to Amelia, it was almost an Olympic sport. The notion that Jimmy would go on a date with Dean Winchester, or put out on a first date to anyone, man or woman, was completely unrealistic and ridiculous. Jimmy just didn't see the humor in it. Whenever he told this to Amelia, she would remark that Sigmund Freud would like to speak with him about the subject. Jimmy knew all too well what that joke meant.  
Not long after he had started the next chapter of his book, Amelia burst into the house in a state of what Jimmy could only describe as an after-shoe-shopping high. He slipped the bookmark back between the pages, slowly standing and limping over to get a better view of where she had sat the two shoe boxes on the table in the centre of the room. He leaned over the first box as she opened it, raising an eyebrow at the pair of brave red high heels contained within. He had never seen Amelia in these kinds of shoes the whole time he had known her and was intrigued. He looked up to her in confusion and she licked her lips, smiling and wiggling her eyebrows in a suggestive way. "Sexy, right?" she asked, picking up a shoe and holding it in front of her husband's face reverently. "They were on sale and there was one size six left. Sure it was an impulse buy, but I might not ever get a deal like that again in my life."  
Jimmy still gave her a look of disapproval, but a sale is a sale is a sale and Amelia was born to shop. He curiously poked a finger at the other box and she sat the heels aside, opening the top to reveal the other pair she got. Tall, black, laced-up combat boots. Jimmy's heart thudded a bit. His wife looked great in boots, and these... Wow. Amelia purred at Jimmy's wide-eyed look of wonder and she pushed him back onto the couch, straddling him and resting gently on his lap, leaning in to kiss him slow and gentle and teasing. Jimmy purred, sinking back into the couch, wrapping his arms around Amelia and pulling her closer as she started to move her hips over his in a very sexual way. Amelia brought it to Jimmy's attention that they had all day to themselves with Claire at school. Jimmy was very happy about that all of a sudden. Amelia was a very skilled woman, and she worked her magic on Jimmy until he was panting and screaming, not even ashamed of himself as he submitted to her. He was, however, a little ashamed afterwards as he went upstairs to shower, thinking about how shameful it would be if anyone knew. Jimmy had never really been confused with or ashamed of his sexuality before. He was submissive and seemed to like men and women equally, which had never seemed strange to him. However, in senior year of high school when he had been caught with Amelia straddling him and kissing him and holding him down behind the bleachers at school, the others had made fun of him for letting a woman dominate him. Amelia had promptly kicked their asses.  
On that note, Jimmy realized he had never exactly learned to stand up for himself. People had eventually just stopped beating him up. Jimmy assumed it was because it just wasn't satisfying to watch him sit there silently and take hit after hit. He was always good at things like that. Hiding his emotions and watching as others tried desperately to get him to react. Amelia was the only one who had ever succeeded. And Dean.  
Dean wasn't a terribly mean bully. He was actually easier on Jimmy than all the others, at the very least. The worst Jimmy could honestly remember Dean doing was probably taking his lunch money, which was so common that Jimmy hardly even noticed. More often than not, he wouldn't have any lunch at all. Dean tended to leave him at least enough to buy a granola bar, which in retrospect was actually kind of nice of him. Still, it was more common for Jimmy not to eat anything at all, which was probably why he turned out so skinny.  
Jimmy got out of the shower, stepping onto the linoleum floor and wrapping a towel around himself. He looked at himself in the mirror for a long moment, deciding he could wait until tomorrow to shave. Besides, Amelia liked the stubbly look on him. She said it made him look tough, which was nice, Jimmy guessed. He dressed himself in a white t-shirt and oversized jeans, walking down the stairs with a yawn, his hair still wet. The rest of the day was largely uneventful. Claire got home from school boasting about how her project that she had done was a big hit with the class and she had gotten an A on it. Jimmy had to remind her that he had helped, at which point she thanked him and then resumed taking all the credit. Jimmy laughed. Just like him when he was her age, and probably just like her mother, too, though Jimmy hadn't known Amelia yet at that point. After that, Jimmy went about making dinner, as it was his turn that night. Amelia whispered teasingly into his ear as he cooked, as a way of thanking him for his assistance the night before. Dinner was done soon and the family sat down to eat. Jimmy lead prayer, they ate, dinner was over. Back to bed and soon it was Saturday, which ended up being boring and uneventful for Jimmy. Amelia went to her mother's house for a visit, taking Claire with her, and Jimmy spent most of the day talking to Castiel, his guardian angel.  
Amelia had known about Castiel ever since Jimmy had "met" him a year ago. She didn't like him. She told Jimmy that he was probably dangerous, especially after Jimmy told her that Castiel had pressured him to put his hand into boiling water. Jimmy never did obey, but was still curious as to what would happen if he had. Part of him believed everything Castiel told him. He really thought of Cas as an angel, someone who would protect him from evil and injury. Still, he had to listen to his wife. She had a point, and she was much more grounded in reality than Jimmy was. It was probably just his schizophrenia, like Amelia told him. That was all. Cas was still a lot of fun to talk to when Jimmy was bored, however. Amelia didn't have to know, and Jimmy had no intention of telling her.  
Jimmy read or talked to Cas most all day, making himself dinner and eating alone. He of course also went to bed alone that night, Castiel telling him a story about all of the things he remembered. The evolution of man, the great fallen civilizations of the past... Jimmy fell asleep quickly to the angel's deep, gravely voice.  
By the time Jimmy awoke the next morning, Amelia and Claire had gotten back from spending the night at his mother-in-law's house. He was woken up by his wife poking him over and over in the side, saying they had to hurry up and get to mass. Jimmy grumbled, getting out of bed, getting ready, and within 30 minutes, was in the car and driving to the church. After mass was over, the three of them went out for lunch, then headed back home. Jimmy spent most of the rest of Sunday reading and preparing for work the next day.  
Monday morning, Jimmy's alarm clock went off at seven AM sharp. He turned it off, pulling himself out of bed and getting ready quickly, leaving for work by 7:20.  
That day at work, he didn't get as much done as he would have liked. Castiel was busy talking to him about some recent tragedy in the town and was warning him to be careful. Jimmy normally would have listened to Cas, but today he had too much to do. His sales numbers were falling behind recently and he had to boost production or he would get fired. Even with trying to drown him out, Jimmy found Castiel's rant very annoying, and even quite disturbing. The angel spoke endlessly about a murderer. Jimmy didn't really gather much more than that, but part of him believed what Cas was saying was utter nonsense anyway.  
By the end of the day, Jimmy was exhausted. He took much longer than usual to find his car for whatever reason, blaming it on how tired he was, thinking he must have just gotten too little sleep the night before. He turned the key a few times, but the engine wouldn't turn over. Strange, he thought, my car's never had this problem before. Jimmy tried to shrug it off, vaguely aware of Castiel feeling stressed by the feeling of apprehension running through his own body, but Jimmy honestly wasn't too concerned. He would take the car in to a mechanic later, probably Wednesday. As long as he could keep it running, that was fine. He drove slowly, the roads a bit slick from the rain and snow that had hit while Jimmy was at work, most of which had frozen to the streets. He looked around nervously as lights on lamp posts began to flicker. He assumed that it must have just been a result of the bad weather, but as a few ahead of him switched off entirely, he started to feel afraid, driving a little faster. It took him a moment to notice the man walking slowly down the sidewalk ahead of him, his silhouette standing out in the flashing lights of lamp poles. Jimmy swallowed hard. This was the stuff of horror movies. He couldn't rightly say he remembered getting home, or laying down on the couch that night, but it was where he woke up the next morning, so he must have gotten there at some point. When he sat up, he saw Amelia standing... no, looming over him, her arms crossed. "James," he snapped, and Jimmy knew he was in trouble. "Where the fuck have you been?"  
Jimmy shook his head in confusion. "I've been here, Em. Sleeping."  
"You didn't get here until 4 in the morning last night."  
Jimmy sat up fully now, trying to remember the previous night. All he could bring to mind was the lights flickering as he drove and the strange man on the sidewalk. Then again, it felt so unreal. It could have very well been a dream for all he knew. He shrugged. "I don't know, Em. I don't remember..."  
"Jimmy, there was a murder. Where the hell were you last night?"  
Jimmy was struck dumb at what he had just heard, and Amelia stared at him angrily as she waited for a response. He shook his head in disbelief. "You think that I...?" She nodded in response and Jimmy put his hands over his eyes. This couldn't be happening. He looked down and instantly understood his wife's accusation. There was brown, dried blood caked over his shirt, all over his arms and chest and stomach. His mouth gaped in shock. "N-no. Em... I couldn't have..."  
"You could have done a lot of things, Jimmy. You're sick in the head." She walked over to fetch a newspaper from that morning, thrusting it into her husband's hands. "Read it."  
"'Man murdered while walking home...' Jesus, Em, I drive down that road to get to and from... work..." The revelation hit him hard and he sat back on the couch. "God... Amelia, I couldn't... I just couldn't have..."  
Amelia shook her head in response and walked away.  
This couldn't be happening. That strange man last night, the blood on his clothes... It couldn't have been him, right? He couldn't have done something so brutal, so terrible, to another human being. But here was his wife, suspecting him. He shook in fear and anger and all he could manage to say was, "I swear to God..."  
It took him a few more seconds to realize he was covered in blood. He rushed off to the bathroom to vomit, then got into the shower, throwing the shirt into the trash. He had not killed that man. Had he? He kept asking Castiel, but the angel was silent. Jimmy wondered if that's what Castiel had been going on about, and the thought made Jimmy retch again. He got out of the shower pretty quickly, dressing in more casual clothes. He called in sick to work, pacing around after he hung up the phone. He was of course wondering if he was a suspect in the investigation.  
"Amelia?" he asked, walking into the kitchen to speak to her. She turned cautiously and Jimmy offered a small smile, holding up his hands to show he had no intention of hurting her. She looked afraid, which gave Jimmy a terrible cold feeling in his chest. "Amelia... I just want to know if you've, well... called the police. To tell them about me." She shook her her head at this. "Of course not, Jimmy. I don't believe it either. It's just that you don't exactly have an alibi and you were in the area around that time of night." She sighed, leaning against the counter. "I want to believe you're innocent. I want to belive you would never do that to someone. I'm just scared, Jimmy." He nodded slowly, his breath hitching. He wanted to hide. He wanted to move out of this city, this damn state, to find them a nice place in Kentucky, or Florida. He wanted to leave this behind him. The very idea that he may have killed a man was too much for him to handle.  
Jimmy suffered through the rest of that day in silence. Amelia went to get Claire from school, but never brought her home, instead taking her to her mother's house. After a few hours, Amelia phoned to tell him that she wasn't coming home that night, and might not the next day either. Jimmy tried to understand. Amelia was terrified; it showed in her voice. He couldn't be sure if anyone had told Claire or if she had heard it on the news, but the fact that her father might be a murderer... Well, Amelia had good reasoning. Jimmy didn't argue.  
The mail truck came a little later and Jimmy went out to check the mailbox. There were a few bills, which he looked through as he stood there. The feeling of a hand grabbing his arms startled him and he let out a sudden shout as the person started to drag him towards the house next door. Jimmy looked over. Dean Winchester. Of course.  
As Dean dragged Jimmy inside, he turned to slam the door closed behind them, locking the door up before turning to face him. Jimmy raised an eyebrow and Dean tried to smile with a little less hostility than he usually showed people. "Jimmy," he began easily, walking closer to him. "I heard about the, uh... murder, last night. I assume you've heard. One Evan Foster was murdered while walking home, right? I'm pretty sure the road where his body was found... Yeah. You take that road to get to your office don't you, buddy?"  
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "You know this because..?"  
Dean narrowed his eyes, moving closer. "I'm asking the questions, Jimmy. Now tell me... Did you kill that man?"  
Jimmy backed up. "God, Dean, no!"  
"I saw you returning home at 4 o'clock this morning," Dean barked. "You had blood on your clothes." Jimmy flinched as Dean pulled out a knife. "Did you kill that man?"  
"No! I didn't kill anyone!" he shouted, trying to put more distance between them, moving behind the coffee table and trying to back towards the window behind him. Dean shrugged, putting the knife away and holding his hands up innocently. "Alright. Maybe I believe that," he said, smiling again. "You don't look like the type. Just, kind of suspicious, don't you think?"  
Jimmy rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dean, it is. Now, what do you want, exactly?"  
Dean chuckled. "Well, that's just it. I wanted to see if you were guilty. But Jimmy, I'll tell you. I've seen murderers. You're no killer, buddy. I can tell just by looking at you." He slid around behind Jimmy and shoved him down so that he was sitting on the couch. "Now, Novak, do tell... Where's that wife of yours gotten to?"  
Jimmy scowled. "Why is that important to you, exactly?" Dean smiled slyly, whistling innocently, but refusing to answer, even as Jimmy repeated the question. Eventually, Jimmy gave up. "She went to get our daughter, Claire, from school and then took her to her mother's house. I guess they're staying there for the time being."  
Dean frowned at that. "Amelia left? What a bitch. Well, you know my door's always closed and triple locked, but you're welcome to stay here if you want. I'll even give you the keys. Just make sure you don't let them get taken. Or cloned. Just... don't let other people know you even have them, please."  
Jimmy blinked, giving Dean a blank stare. This was more hospitality than he had known Dean to show for the entire time he knew him. He shrugged. Not like he was going to stay in that empty house he called home. Whatever crap Amelia had said to him earlier that day about not believing he was a killer wouldn't stop her from wanting to be rid of him until this all blew over. He knew that she wouldn't be back, not for a while at least. Jimmy thought about it for a moment before agreeing. Dean seemed pleased, saying he was going off to the kitchen to get dinner ready, but Jimmy nervously told him that he would be fine with it if they just ordered pizza. Dean spun on his heels, looking at Jimmy in surprise and flinching at the suggesting. "U-um... if you want to, I guess. You can call. I don't like pizza, so I'll just make myself something." He darted into the kitchen as Jimmy pulled out his cell phone. He ordered something for himself, though he was worried about Dean's reaction.  
By the time the pizza came, Dean was sitting at the dinner table on the other end of the room, eating already. He jumped noticeably at the sound of the doorbell ringing, and Jimmy casually got up to answer the door. Dean watched nervously, but Jimmy easily thanked the pizza man and gave him his money, bringing the food back inside. He sat down at the dinner table across from Dean, looking up at him with a small smile, Dean looking strangely pale. Jimmy shrugged, starting to eat, both of them sitting there in silence. Once Dean finished, he stood up quickly from his chair, going to the kitchen and washing the dishes. Jimmy sighed, finally finishing off the pizza a while afterwards, throwing the box and the remaining crusts into the trash. Dean was still in the kitchen when Jimmy came in, sitting in the bay window at the side of the room. Jimmy smiled over at him, walking over and sitting down on the floor next to the bench of the window. "So," he began softly, "you alright? You seemed kind of... spooked earlier."  
Dean nodded, grinning apologetically. "I'm so sorry about that. Just... after the war, you know... I'm a little jumpy. Hell, jumpy is an understatement. A huge understatement. It just makes me nervous, eating other people's food."  
Jimmy nodded, getting up on the bench with Dean, bringing his knees up to his chest and looking up at the ceiling, smiling a little. "Hey, no worries. I can understand that." He looked over at him, chuckling. "No offense, but that's actually why I wanted to order pizza instead of you making me dinner... I-I mean it isn't that I don't trust you, but... You did kind of pull a knife on me." Dean laughed softly and the two sat there in silence for a moment.  
"You know," Dean began after a long few seconds, "Jimmy, I really think that we would be good friends." He shifted uncomfortably, looking behind them out of the window. "You know, thinking back... I was a real dick to you when we were in school, wasn't I?" The tone of Dean's voice told Jimmy that the question was probably rhetorical. "Man, I'm really sorry about that. I was going through a lot of stuff back then and I just didn't know how else to deal with it than to take it out on other people. You were such a gentle, genuinely nice guy, so.. Well, you were kind of an easy target. You know, I really, really regret what I did back then. So... hey, I'm sorry."  
Jimmy leaned back against the glass of the window, sighing softly. "Dean... You know, I'm really sorry, too. I'm sorry I avoided you for so long after that. I can see that you've changed a lot since then. And I forgive you for what you did. I never knew that things were so hard for you, Dean. I really wish that you had told me about it. I wish I could have helped."  
Dean looked over, seeming shocked. "Really?" he asked quietly, smiling a little. "Damn, Jimmy... I was right, you really are a nice guy." He, too, leaned back, the glass creaking unhappily under the weight of both of them. "I kind of wish I had talked to you about it, Jimmy. Maybe things wouldn't have turned out this way."  
There was a very long silence that stretched between them after that, but eventually Dean began speaking again. "Can I tell you something if you promise not to tell anyone else?" Jimmy looked towards him. "Of course," he muttered, worried, and Dean started speaking again a moment later. "Well," he began, sounding apprehensive, "the whole reason I joined the military in the first place had to do with all the problems that I was facing in high school, really. I didn't join because I wanted to do my father proud, and especially not because I wanted to follow in his footsteps." There was a pause, and Jimmy looked over curiously. "Well, why then?" Dean sighed.  
"Because I wanted to die," he said finally, voice level and eyes straight ahead of him, face hard and showing no emotion even as Jimmy flinched in shock. He didn't look over at Jimmy, instead focusing hard on the opposite wall even as the man next to him began to stutter out small phrases of disbelief.  
"Dean," Jimmy moaned in agony, his hand on his friend's shoulder, "do you mean you were..."  
Dean finished the sentence for him. "Suicidal? Yeah, maybe. I couldn't bring myself to do it, so I joined the marines in hopes that someone else would do it for me." He said this easily as if it was nothing big, but Jimmy felt a cold pang in his stomach which made him want to yelp. He put an arm around Dean's shoulders as comfortingly as he could, pulling him a little closer. "Jesus," he whispered, "I'm so sorry, Dean. I wish to God I had known. I wish I could have helped you." He pulled Dean into a tight hug, the man tensing a little but not fighting it. "If there's anything I can do, Dean. Anything. You just let me know."  
Dean nodded into Jimmy's shoulder, Jimmy satisfied with the answer and pulling back. "You know," he said softly, leaning against his friend a bit, "I really don't want to worry you by telling my whole terrible life's story, but I swear to you Jimmy, I had a reason why I was such a fucking giant bag of dicks, okay? My dad was a fucking terrible person okay. I'm sure that a lot of people would say that about their parents, but really my dad was terrible to me, okay. He hurt me in so many ways. Told me that I was worthless and stupid and a fuck up and didn't matter. He would hit me and beat me and wouldn't let me eat sometimes. He didn't treat me right, not in any way. I mean, it's fine that I took it if it meant that Sammy got out of it, but I just snapped under it. I could never recover from the way that he treated me and I just fucking gave up while I was in high school and middle school. I'm at least a little bit better, but I'm still fucked up all to hell because of him." Dean shook his head and realised that Jimmy was shaking, nearly in tears, and felt bad for upsetting him, but looked over with a small smile. "Hey, man, please don't worry about me, alright? I'm going to be fine, so don't worry about it too much. It's helping me, having you here if I'm honest. You're really a great guy, Jimmy. No joke there. I'm broken as hell and the fact that you haven't shoved me away and left already... Well, it means a hell of a lot to me. So thank you." Jimmy now well and truly started to cry, trying to dab away the tears, sniffling quietly. "I'm really sorry," he said softly. "I know I probably shouldn't be crying, I mean, that all happened to you, not to me, but... You just seem like such a great guy, Dean. You didn't deserve that. No one does..." Dean smiled and nodded, rubbing Dean's back and chuckled softly, hoping he would chear up."Okay, well buddy, good , I'm pretty tired and it's getting pretty late, so how about we both head off to bed? Where should I sleep? Are there any spare rooms?" Dean flinched a little at the barrage of questions but persevered as well as he could. "Yeah, there's a spare room. I'll lead you there." He walked along a hallway leading from the kitchen. He showed him to the first room on the right, smiling at him and holding the door open for him. Jimmy examined the room for a few seconds. Things were extremely orderly, the colors bland and neutral. The walls were painted light yellow and the sheets on the bed were off white. Jimmy nodded in approval and turned to Dean. "Everything to your liking, Your Highness?" his friend asked with a chuckle, and Jimmy nodded. "Well, things are all set in here, of course. The bathroom's at the end of the hallway. Do you need to borrow something to sleep in, or are you fine with wearing what you have on?" Jimmy shrugged. The hoodie and sweat pants he had on were fine, and he told Dean he would just sleep in what he had. Dean nodded and wished him a good night, heading back to his own bedroom, changing into something more comfortable for sleeping, and finally fell down into bed, falling asleep quickly. Jimmy, however, tossed and turned in his own bed. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable. If anything, it was nicer than his own back at his home. However, things just didn't feel right. Everything about being here and especially the situation with Amelia made him nervous. He realized that she was probably just as terrified as he was about the whole thing, but he was worried that she secretly thought of him as a dangerous crazy person. Most of the people in the town knew about Jimmy's mental illness, but almost no one spoke about it in case word were to get back to him. Folks usually treated him with respect and kindness, but this was partially because everyone was somewhat afraid that he could snap or flip at a moment's notice and go on a killing spree. At some point, Jimmy would have disputed this with anyone who dared say it, but at the present moment he wasn't so sure how his argument would hold up. He was probably already a suspect at that point, he had to admit. He shook his head and tried to get rid of that thought as quickly as it came, but the notion clung hard to his mind. He tried not to think about what might happen if the police came to look for him, both fearing for himself and for Dean. He didn't know very much about the legal system, but he feared that Dean could get into some kind of serious trouble if he was thought to in any way have been an acomplice, either by helping commit the crime or by harboring Jimmy from the cops. He started to break out into a cold sweat, pushing the sheets off of himself and sitting up for a while before laying back down and relaxing enough to drift off into a shallow, fitful sleep.


	3. Chapter Two

Jimmy ended up hardly sleeping that night, waking up around nine in the morning to the sound of a television from another room. Dean was already awake, he assumed, so he kicked the covers away from him and got to his feet, patting down his mussed up hair and trotting off to the kitchen. He looked around, walking into the living room and standing behind the couch, tapping Dean on the shoulder. Dean flinched, turning to look at him and promptly turning back around, holding up a hand. "Dude," he snapped, "for the love of God, please get your morning wood out of my face." Jimmy's face flushed and he turned away, not having noticed. "Uh, sorry," he whispered sheepishly. "Anyway, where's the food? Also, is there coffee? I could use some right now."  
Dean shrugged. "Well, I don't know where you keep your coffee, but mine is in the coffee pot. Feel free. There's food in the fridge and cereal in the cabinets somewhere. You'll find it, I'm sure." Jimmy shrugged, satisfied by this answer, and walked away back into the kitchen. As he stood there sipping his coffee, he briefly considered taking care of the problem in his trousers, but deemed that it was probably considered impolite to do that kind of thing at someone else's house. A little voice in the back of his head told him that maybe Dean wanted to help him with that problem. That little voice just might have been Castiel. Jimmy just might have told him to shut the fuck up.  
By the time Jimmy had finished his coffee, his body had realized that it wasn't going to get what it wanted and decided to stop being embarrassing, much to his relief. He quickly found boxes of cereal in the cabinet, huge boxes, like one might buy if they were either a) a chronic hoarder, b) one of those crazy coupon clippers or c) gearing up for the end of the world. Each was a distinct brand of crazy that Jimmy had never really dealt with before personally, but his best guess was either a or c. Leaning towards c, he poured out some frosted flakes into a bowl, getting out some milk and spending a full minute and a half trying to find the drawer with the spoons. Finally, he was able to go back into the living room, sitting down on the other end of the couch from Dean and starting to eat, only half watching whatever his friend had switched the TV to in his absence. Jimmy looked over to Dean a few times, but Dean didn't seem to notice him at all, much less pay any speck of attention. This made Jimmy angry for some reason, so he decided to strike up a conversation.  
"Quite a cereal collection you have in there, huh?" he asked, trying to sound both snide and casual at the same time. Dean shrugged in response, flipping through a few more channels. "Yeah, I tend to buy a lot at one time. Less trips out. Helps me cope with the stress." Jimmy nodded, not having realized that was the reason. Dean was on a different part of that list apparently. D) PTSD. Jimmy thought it best to drop it and went back to eating his cereal in silence. Dean sat there flipping through a few more channels, turning the TV off altogether when a war movie came onto the screen. He got up and started walking back to the kitchen without a word, which worried Jimmy. He turned around to watch Dean go, raising an eyebrow.  
"Hey," he called after him as gently as he could manage, "Dean, you alright?" Dean didn't exactly answer, just holding up a hand. Jimmy couldn't decide what it meant, but assumed it was either "yes" or something along the lines of "shut up and don't talk to me". Either way, Jimmy turned back to his food. Dean still hadn't come back from wherever he had gone off to earlier by the time Jimmy finished eating, which honestly made him worry about his friend even more than he already was. He went back into the room Dean had given him for the night to see Dean standing there making the bed. He looked over when Jimmy walked in, seeming startled, but calmed considerably when Jimmy smiled at him and held up his hands. "Woah, easy there, don't shoot." Jimmy said with a small laugh. "I was starting to get worried about you. Are you alright, Dean? You seemed upset earlier." Dean shrugged in response, but Jimmy could tell that he wasn't just fine about the whole thing. He walked over, making to sit down on the bed, but Dean swatted him away. "Are you nuts? I just made this bed, Novak. It's not gonna kill you to stand up, lazy." He offered a smile and finished smoothing down the sheets, then putting a hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he turned to him. "Okay, buddy, you wanna talk about feelings? Let's go." He lead him into his own room, which was a bit messier, but still very organized compared to, well, Jimmy's entire house, really. Dean moved about the room tidying things up, mostly seeming lost in the work until he started to speak.  
"Jimmy," he started, "I'm fine. I promise. War movie comes on TV, it freaks me out a little. Sometimes, I have one of my moments, remember things I don't want to think about anymore, but after it's over I'm the same old boring Dean Winchester." Jimmy smiled gently as Dean chuckled, and he nodded. "Alright," he said with a hint of finality, watching his friend clean up the place. "I guess I can understand that. If there's anything I can do to help, you know I'm here for you." Dean nodded and said nothing more, going right back to cleaning up the room, Jimmy still watching him. After Dean had straightened and dusted and made things up to his heart's content, he finally stood back with a contented sigh and deemed the room clean. Jimmy was half asleep sitting in a desk chair in the corner of the room. Dean walked over and twirled him around in it, and Jimmy jerked awake having gotten the picture. He stood, Dean pushing in the chair before leaving the room. Jimmy followed after as Dean went to sit back down on the couch, leaning back with a heavy sigh.  
"Jimmy," Dean began quietly, not looking at him, "I'm curious. Did you happen to take care of that problem from earlier?"  
Jimmy choked a bit. Castiel was in the back of Jimmy's mind, screaming a cheer. Jimmy tried to ignore him. "Dean, why do you care? And for the record, no, I didn't." Dean laughed at this, shrugging. "I dunno, man, just curious I guess. Also just checking that I don't have anything else to clean, if you get my drift." Jimmy got his drift. He crossed his arms angrily, trying to ignore his friend as they sat there, side by side, in the silence of the room. The clicking of the ceiling fan and a distant clock ticking, probably from the kitchen, were the only noises that made it to Jimmy's attention other than his and Dean's breathing. Why would he notice Dean breathing? God, why was his breathing so loud? Jimmy rolled his eyes in annoyance, finally breaking the silence.  
"Hey, Dean, you got any beer in this dump?" he asked, hauling himself up from the couch with a bit more effort than usual, due to the lack of sleep. Dean laughed, jerking a thumb in the direction of the kitchen. "In the fridge, genius. I'm going to trust that you can find it." Jimmy nodded, walking off to the kitchen and grabbing a beer, taking a seat in the bay window and peering off down the street, watching cars come and go, passing quickly without any regard to the houses lining the road. Dean turned around on the couch and called out to Jimmy. "Hey," he shouted, "if you're staying here, you might want to go over to your place and get some stuff you need. We're friends and all, but I don't want you to borrow my toothbrush or something. Or my underwear."  
Jimmy smiled, shaking his head and standing to cross to the front door. He started to unlatch the bolts before Dean caught his attention, tossing him a key ring. "So you can get back in," he explained, mentioning that the keys all had numbers carved into them, then giving him a sequence of six numbers to explain which key unlocked which lock. "If that's too much for you or you forget, just knock three times and I'll let you back in." Jimmy nodded, slipping out the door and heading off to his own house, Dean locking the door behind him loudly enough for Jimmy to hear as he walked down the driveway.  
Inside his own home, Jimmy found an old suitcase from whenever he and Amelia had last taken a vacation, hastily cramming it with clothes, books, and even throwing his laptop in. He nodded in satisfaction once he zipped it shut, gently carrying it down the stairs and wheeling it back over to Dean's house. Having remembered the code, he unlocked the locks accordingly and felt each bolt slide away, finally shoving open the heavy wooden door. Dean was sitting on the couch still when Jimmy entered, but he looked a bit distressed as Jimmy walked in, relaxing after a moment. He seemed unaccustomed to having someone else enter his home, which Jimmy kind of understood. Sort of. Only a little. He wheeled in his suitcase, closing and locking the door behind him. He pulled out his laptop and charger, sitting them on the coffee table and taking the rest of the things to his room, promising Dean he would put everything in a neat and orderly manner later. He came back into the living room to see Dean balancing his laptop on his lap, the charger plugged into an outlet in the wall next to the couch. Jimmy ran a hand over his face, but was content to let Dean do whatever it was he was doing. First of all, he trusted him not to snoop for anything, and secondly, he didn't have anything incriminating on his computer. Not anything that wasn't password protected, anyhow.  
After a long few minutes of clicking and typing, Dean chuckled. "Hidden porn stash, huh, Jimmy?"  
Jimmy's blood ran cold and his eyes snapped to the computer screen as obscene sounds played through the speakers. He lunged to shut the computer, but Dean exited out of the window before he could, rendering it more or less useless. Jimmy sat back, face flushed bright red as Dean gave him a sly look. Jimmy wasn't so amused. "That had a password on it, Dean," he snapped. "How did you figure it out?" Dean shrugged and offered up the simple answer of "military", but Jimmy wasn't about to buy that.  
"Pretty sure you weren't CIA, Dean. The Marines taught you how to hack some poor guy's porn stash?"  
Dean laughed. "I'm paranoid and I get bored, Jimmy." Jimmy rolled his eyes and thought it best to just give up, thinking Dean had already had his fun. He then became painfully aware of Dean going through each video and picture, having turned off the speakers to draw a bit less attention to his snooping. Jimmy felt progressively more and more panicky as Dean started to chuckle, occasionally cringing. Eventually, he closed the laptop and sat it back on the table, twiddling his thumbs for a moment before looking over to his friend with a wicked grin. "You sure are a kinky bastard, huh, buddy?" Jimmy snapped his head around to look at him, face beat red and lungs hardly functioning from the embarrassment burning in his chest. Dean simply shrugged it off and Jimmy gladly went back to nursing his beer from earlier. He made a quick trip to his room a bit later, retrieving the book he had been reading before and picking up from where he left off. Dean seemed interested for a moment, leaning over Jimmy's shoulder to read, but Jimmy told him off for being distracting as he mouthed the words along while he read them. Dean backed away quickly after that and went back to channel surfing, which was at least less annoying than Dean whispering in his ear something he'd already read. Jimmy drank the rest of his beer slowly, finishing about two and a half chapters of the book by the time he had finished it off, putting the empty bottle down on the coffee table. Dean instantly picked it up and took it into the kitchen, tossing it into a recycling box and coming to stand at the door to the living room. "Hey," he called, "Jimmy, want me to make some lunch?" Jimmy hardly looked up before nodding and getting right back to his book. Dean walked away, rolling his eyes. The story was really heating up, apparently. From what he'd seen, it was something about a woman burning on the ceiling.  
When Dean came back into the living room with a couple of sandwiches for them, he had thought up few important questions. Finally having Jimmy's attention away from the book for more than a few seconds, he decided to just go for it.  
"So, Jimmy, what's the situation with you going back to work?" he asked as casually as he could. Jimmy looked over with a shrug, thinking out loud more so than actually answering. "I guess that I could go, but that might mean someone would come to question me about the murder, since almost everyone in the building drives that road that time of night to get back home. But, if I don't go in, people might start getting suspicious because of the timing of it." He shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich and unabashedly speaking with his mouth full. "I guess that I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't, so who cares, really? If I feel like going, I'll go and if I don't feel like it, then piss on them." Dean nearly dropped his sandwich from laughing, and Jimmy quickly asked what Dean found so hilarious.  
"I didn't think you had it in you to say that kind of stuff, Jimmy," Dean answered honestly, still chuckling. "You seem like the responsible family type, so hearing you say that kind of stuff is honestly hilarious." Jimmy shrugged and chuckled along with Dean, but didn't really respond to him. Really, acting like that wasn't like him, at all, but Jimmy guessed that a lot of things he had been doing recently were out of character, especially if he was really a murderer. Jimmy went back to reading as soon as he was finished with his food, Dean getting up to take the dishes into the kitchen, muttering "you could help, you know" as he stalked off a little unhappily.  
Dean went back to watching TV, borrowing Jimmy's laptop for a while under the solemn promise not to snoop through any more of his things. Dean more likely than not broke that promise within the first minute judging by his awkwardly half-hidden snickering, but Jimmy didn't press the issue. He felt that Dean would probably figure these things out anyway if he wanted to know badly enough, so Jimmy eventually caved. He sat idly by, sure that Dean was likely going through his internet history at this point, trying not to let his brain bring to his attention what kinds of web sites he had been frequenting recently. A cold pang ran through him as Dean nudged him and turned the screen to face him, displaying a rather embarrassing fetish site which Jimmy would rather have not ever been connected with in any way if it meant this kind of humiliation. He flicked his eyes to Dean and tried to look angry, but probably ended up looking more like a sexually frustrated kitten. He crossed his arms, trying to get back to his reading despite Dean's obnoxious laughter. Dean gave up on embarrassing Jimmy at some point, instead focusing on whatever he had actually wanted the computer for in the first place. Within the hour, Jimmy had finished his book entirely, as he hadn't been far from the end when he sat down with it. He checked the time, deeming that 4 PM was an appropriate enough time to make dinner.  
"Hey," he muttered, stretching out his back with a loud crack from a few of his joints, "Dean, do you mind if I make dinner tonight? I'm not a terrible cook, I promise." Dean looked up from the screen quickly, looking nervous. Jimmy smiled gently at that, remembering the talk they had about this the previous night. "Dean, you can watch me prepare the food if it would make you feel better," he offered, rubbing his friend's back gently. Dean grinned, nodding. "Making it now, then? I'm starving, dude. Make us something good." Jimmy agreed and went into the kitchen, coming out with his arms crossed only a moment later. "This is all you have in the fridge? Really? The only food in here is eggs and potatoes. Do you just live off of cereal?" Judging by the look Dean gave him, yes, he did indeed survive by cereal alone. After a second, Dean pulled out his wallet and simply chucked it at Jimmy, nearly hitting him in the face before Jimmy caught it clumsily. "Take my credit card and go to the store, if you can't handle my strict diet of eggs, potatoes and cereal. Though, seriously, I was running low on food anyway and I'd appreciate it if you could just make the trip. I'm not feeling up to it today, and it isn't like I'm asking you to spend your own money on it. I have a shopping list up on the fridge so you can take that with you and get that stuff, as well as whatever it is you need for dinner tonight."  
Jimmy nodded, taking another trip into the kitchen, locating the aforementioned grocery list and picking it up, skimming through it as he came back into the living room. "Wow, Dean, this is... a lot of food." Dean shrugged as Jimmy looked up at him. "I told you I don't like getting out, so I stock up," he explained, Jimmy still a bit bewildered by the amount he was being asked to buy.  
"Well," Jimmy said, slipping his shoes back on and starting to unlock the door, "I'm sure that this stuff will have dinner pretty well covered. I'll see you in an hour or two." He slipped out into the cold, hearing Dean rush to lock the door behind him. He headed next door to get into his car, the inside of it freezing cold, reminding him to run inside and grab his coat before heading off to the store. The trip took a bit less time than he had thought and soon he returned to Dean's house bearing many groceries, which he eventually forced Dean to help carry inside. With the two of them working as a team, they had everything more or less put away in about half an hour, which was totally fine with Jimmy, even with Dean still buzzing around the fridge and trying to straighten and rearrange things. As Jimmy started with dinner, he couldn't help himself anymore and had to go ahead and ask.  
"Dean, buddy, I'm getting this strange vibe that you might have a little touch of OCD," he said in as calm and pleasant a tone as possible, really not wanting to upset his friend. Dean looked over only briefly before turning most of his attention back to the fridge and its contents. "Yeah," he muttered thoughtfully, caught up in his work. "I guess I am, yeah. I guess I didn't notice. Damn it, why did you put the milk there, Jimmy?" Jimmy smiled at him and patted his shoulder, leaning against the counter as he waited for the water in the pot he had placed on the stove to start bubbling. Dean finally seemed to be satisfied and shut the fridge with a contented sigh, finally looking over to see what Jimmy was working on. Jimmy noticed his gaze and smiled a little. "Spaghetti is easy to make." Dean huffed, starting on a cabinet now. "I don't much like Italian food," he commented a bit bitterly. Jimmy put a hand on Dean's back, making him flinch a little. "You've never had my Italian food," he insisted, setting about breaking the noodles and throwing them in. Dean shrugged and started angrily muttering to himself about the placement of spices in the spice rack. Jimmy shrugged it off and went about stirring the spaghetti noodles in the now boiling water. "Just tell me if you need any help arranging things," he tried. Dean smiled at him and chuckled softly as if to say thank you for the effort. He went back to sorting things and was finished by the time Jimmy had strained the spaghetti noodles. Looking over, Dean was amazed to see he had already finished making a complex tomato sauce of some kind. He hovered about, watching cautiously, having missed most of the process of making the food due to not paying close attention, but sure Jimmy hadn't tampered with anything. Jimmy offered him a bowl of the food, smiling happily as Dean accepted it.  
"Jimmy, one question," Dean muttered. "Is there any cheese in this or something?" Jimmy looked over. "I would hope not. I'm lactose intolerant." He grinned, turning to notice Dean smiling as well. "Good," he said with a chuckle. "Me too, actually." Jimmy shrugged. "Very glad that you get lactose free milk. Didn't think I noticed?" Dean shrugged and both of them headed off into the living room, actually sitting at the dinner table for this meal, though this time they sat side by side instead of being on opposite sides of the table. The ate in silence for the most part, which was fine with Jimmy, as he never liked trying to hold conversation while eating. At some point, though, Dean started laughing softly and Jimmy raised an eyebrow in his direction. "How about you share with the class, Winchester," Jimmy deadpanned, Dean chuckling softly still.  
"So you're lactose intolerant and you ate pizza last night."  
Jimmy looked over at him. "And? Jesus, are you two? I regretted that decision. Let's not talk about it." Dean agreed, but still snickered into his hand all the way through the meal.  
After dinner it was about 6 o'clock and Jimmy was strangely tempted to go get in bed, remembering that he had hardly slept at all the night before. He managed to make it a few hours longer, watching TV with Dean to kill the time, Dean assuring him at some point that usually he did more than this and it mostly had to do with how hard he'd been working lately. Jimmy didn't quite believe that, but shrugged it off and didn't comment. He finally headed off to bed at nine, falling into bed after changing clothes, throwing the others into the dirty clothes basket before he drifted off easily in the comfortable bed.  
Jimmy woke up earlier than he meant to that morning, around six in the morning, and ended up heading in for work after all. He left a note for Dean on the fridge, assuming he would see it and be okay wit Jimmy's choice. He was, when he finally woke up around eight, and shrugged it off, going about his normal daily routine without his friend around. He was surprisingly lonely.  
Jimmy almost regretted going in to work, as everyone had been asking him where he had been. Most of them seemed to just be honestly, sincerely concerned about him, but Jimmy was still nervous about all their questions. Everyone told him that they assumed he was either sick or was so worried about the murder recently that he decided to stay away from the area for the time being. Jimmy smiled and went along with most of what they said, trying to play it cool and seem as innocent as possible. Jimmy was hardly aware of the rest of the day, coming home later than he meant to because of sitting at his desk so long staring at the blank black screen in front of him. He couldn't really identify why he did that, it just felt like he needed to for some reason. He blamed it on his schizophrenia and left around ten o'clock, making it home by eleven.  
Dean was laying back on the couch by the time Jimmy came in, the lights mostly all off except one glowing faintly from the kitchen. Jimmy stood there silently for a moment, turning to close the door and lock it back as quietly as he could possibly manage. When he turned back, Dean was sitting bolt upright, staring at him like a man possessed. Jimmy froze, but then smiled. "Nice to see you too, sweetheart," he said quietly, taking his laptop from the coffee table and leaving for his room, Dean laying back down to drift off again for a few more hours. Jimmy sat in his bed for a few more hours simply doing nothing, laying back against the wall with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. After a while, he pulled his laptop over to him, opening the lid and starting to look up information about the murder that had occurred. He couldn't exactly find any accounts from witnesses, and there seemed to not be any at all. Jimmy was almost fine with that, but the problem was that now it would all be more or less entirely based on whatever was at the scene. Apparently when the police arrived, the man's body was found seriously mutilated, a knife next to his corpse, but the wounds were too severe, from the description of the damage, to be made by such a small weapon. Jimmy shook his head and cleared his internet history. He needed to just stop thinking about all this. This was some kind of strange coincidence, he was sure, and it would blow over eventually. They would find the killer and Jimmy could finally rest easy. Amelia and Claire might even come home. That thought upset him for some reason. He wanted to see his family again... but he honestly didn't want to leave Dean here alone. He wasn't sure if it was because he was worried Dean would flip and hurt someone,or if it was because he couldn't stand the idea of the poor man sitting here terrified of the outside world with no one around to help him through it. He liked their current arrangement, if he was honest with himself. He would go and get Dean what he needed from the store, making them dinner every other night if Dean was alright with that, and in exchange he got a place to stay. Dean was happy to do the cleaning, so Jimmy didn't have to worry about that so much anymore, though he almost always tried to put things back exactly as they were in case Dean didn't like it.  
Jimmy sat aside his computer after a while, scooting into the thick blankets on the bed, pulling the duvet up to his chin and laying there deep in thought. He found it rather strange that he wanted to stay with Dean, wanted to help keep the home with him, make him dinner, pay the bills. He found it especially strange that he cared even a bit about upsetting Dean's OCD. Most people Jimmy knew would likely use it as an excuse to make any sort of mess he pleased and have Dean clean it without feeling a shred of remorse, but Jimmy would have hated to see that happen to him. He thought about why for a moment, deciding it was probably just because he was a decent person. After a while, another thought came to his mind. That morning and the day before, all of Dean's... strange curiosity about Jimmy's sexuality... Maybe Castiel had had a point after all and Dean was attracted to him, but Jimmy decided to shove the thought away. Him and Dean. He couldn't even imagine that. Until of course he realized he couldn't imagine that and promptly began imagining it. He tried to ignore the tightness in his trousers as he thought about what Dean would probably do with him. After much tossing and turning and maybe a little bit of inappropriate touching, Jimmy was finally able to drift off to sleep a few hours later.


	4. Chapter Three

Jimmy was woken up the next morning by a shout from Dean and the sound of glass breaking. He bolted from the bed, rushing into the kitchen to see Dean hunched in the corner, holding one of his hands against his shirt, staining the white fabric with deep, red blood. Jimmy surveyed the scene for a moment, noticing the shattered glass on the floor and the blood spattered around it. Jimmy walked closer, Dean looking up at him with large, terrified eyes. Jimmy held his hands up, open palms facing Dean to show him he meant no harm. "Hey," he said as softly as he could, "Dean, buddy, you okay?" Dean was shaking at this point and he raised his uninjured hand to point at the wall across the kitchen, training his gaze on whatever had scared him. Jimmy turned. A spider. Well, he couldn't argue that it was a particularly large, very intimidating spider, but he didn't see all the fuss being justified. Jimmy swiftly got a cup and a piece of paper, trapping the arachnid and releasing it outside. He back back into the house with a grin, displaying to Dean that the creature was gone. He helped Dean to his feet and started to sweep up the glass as Dean had to stitch the cut in his hand. After he was done cleaning the spatters of blood off of the floor, Jimmy approached Dean with a small smile. "Afraid of spiders, are we?" he asked gently, trying to get Dean to relax. He was a little off. Dean spun to face him, obviously hysterical. "Haha, yeah, go ahead and laugh your damn ass of at me, Jimmy. I get it," he snapped, "it's so hilarious. Marine who's scared to death of spiders. Sue me." Dean made sure to punch a wall on his way out, letting out a shout as the force disturbed the cut in his palm. He continued to his room, glaring daggers at Jimmy as he walked out. Jimmy simply shrugged, assuming that Dean just needed a moment to cool down.  
About ten minutes later, Dean still hadn't returned from his room and the phone on the wall in the kitchen started ringing loudly. Jimmy picked it up, thinking how strange him having a land line was. He didn't even have time to say hello, or anything for that matter, before a voice came from the speaker, boasting something about low prices on some type of useless service. Jimmy rolled his eyes and hung up. He looked over to see that Dean had poked his head around the corner, Jimmy smiling at him gently as they met eyes. "Just a stupid telemarketer," he explained, Dean smiling a bit with him at that. He nodded, walking a bit further into the room. "Thanks for taking care of that. And, um, sorry about earlier."  
Jimmy couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Dean," he said softly, coming to put a hand on his friend's shoulder, trying to comfort him. "Trust me, I'm fine with it. I don't think it's funny at all, to be honest. I guess I can understand in a way. Spiders are creepy little fuckers in my opinion, so I can see why someone might be afraid of them." Dean nodded, cooperating as Jimmy lead him to sit down with him at the bay window. Jimmy pulled him in, his arm around Dean's shoulders. "Well, now that we're in the feelings-talk window..." He paused to chuckle, looking over at Dean. Cas muttered something about how close they were and Jimmy may have blushed a little as his eyes moved over Dean's face. "Um... Well, Dean. I'm really glad that you're okay after earlier, first of all. I've been really worried, truth be told. I mean, the whole phobia thing? I get it, okay. I'm so afraid of snakes, it's really awful." He pulled Dean back to lean against the window with him, wrapping his other arm around to hold him in a loose hug. "See, when I was in fourth grade, I think, we took this class trip to spend the night at a zoo. Crazy, huh? Overnight zoo trip. I was so excited, and I had so much fun. Until the snakes. See, I knew at that point that I was terrified of snakes. Everyone in my fourth grade class also knew this. I was blindfolded and lead into the room where they kept the snakes and I was kind of thinking, ah cool big surprise can't wait to see what it is. Then they take the blindfold off and just snakes. Everywhere. So I started screaming and crying and I head back toward the door but these three guys are standing there blocking the way so I'm just trapped in this room full of snakes. I have no idea what happened, to be honest. I guess I passed out, because I remember waking up in the main room with the teacher screaming at whoever did that to me."  
Jimmy smiled gently and looked over to see Dean also grinning. There was some kind of spark between them at that moment. Jimmy felt it run up his spine lightening quick. The two of them, sitting in a frosty bay window, arms wrapped around each other and their lips so, so close...  
Jimmy was the one who closed the gap between them, his lips connecting with Dean's in a moment that shocked them both. Dean's eyes widened and Jimmy quickly pulled away, face deep red, ashamed of himself for acting so impulsively. Dean sat there with a hand over his lips, pressed close to them as if hiding from what he and Jimmy had just done. No, what Jimmy had just done, he reminded himself, watching Dean close for a reaction beyond shock.  
Dean's heart kept thudding away in his chest, making him feel a bit lightheaded. He looked up at Jimmy, sparks of white flying in front of his eyes each time he blinked. He eventually lowered his hand, leaning back in towards his friend. Before Jimmy could ask what he was doing, Dean had him pinned to the window, hands holding his wrists in place as Dean kissed him hard, moaning against Jimmy's chapped lips. Jimmy was shocked, but something in his was pleased and he kissed back enthusiastically, straining against Dean's hands to try to hold him. Dean kept Jimmy firmly pinned down, ending up straddling him as he deepened the kiss further, their tongues twining, making Jimmy moan into Dean a bit louder than he would have liked. Dean pulled back after a moment, looking down at him, both of them panting hard. "I... Jesus Jimmy," he breathed, a bit too aware of the pink in his cheeks. Jimmy looked up at Dean with wide eyes, both of them obviously confused by the other's reaction, but as Jimmy started smiling, Dean followed suit and Jimmy was satisfied that at least they were both happy.  
Jimmy's wrists finally free, he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist and pulled him in closer, holding him steady so that Jimmy could look into his eyes. Dean tried to pull away, embarrassed by what at just happened, but Jimmy was stubborn. "Well," he said softly, "that sure was... interesting. And unexpected." Dean nodded in agreement. Jimmy let him pull away now, both of them sitting side by side again as they had been before. "So, Dean... Uh, I guess I should say I'm sorry about randomly kissing you, but I'm pretty sure that neither of us is sorry about that, actually." Dean laughed and nodded, leaning his head against Jimmy's shoulder.  
"Well, I'm sorry if I freaked you out by pinning you down like that. I haven't really... been with someone... in a really long time. I guess I just kind of freaked out and went animal mode there for a second." Jimmy shrugged and wrapped an arm around Dean's back, leaning his head against Dean's. "Naw, I really don't mind it at all, Dean. It was kind of nice, to be honest."  
Dean was about to make a joke, but decided against it. He opted to just smile slyly to himself. Then Jimmy jerked away from him, nearly making him fall as the man got up from the bench and went to pace around the kitchen, muttering angrily and loudly to himself. Dean seemed about to ask before Jimmy turned to him, looking hysterical. "Damn it, Dean, I'm married! I have a wife and a daughter, Dean, I'm married, I can't do this!" He hid his face in his hands and returned to the bench, sitting down next to Dean and panting softly. He looked up at him after a moment, tears in his eyes. "God, what do I do?" he muttered, looking up at his friend in desperation. Dean smiled at him gently and pulled him into a tight hug. "Jimmy, don't worry. Your wife won't find out, and even if she does I'm sure she won't mind. Hasn't she been joking about you being gay for years now?"  
Jimmy looked up in confusion and was going to ask how he knew, but it would figure that he wasn't the only one Amelia made those stupid jokes to, if he thought about it. Half the town probably thought he was in the closet by now. He sat up with a huff. "I am not gay, Dean. I'm pansexual. Big difference." Dean held up his hands defensively. "I know," he replied. "I'm well aware there's a difference, Jimmy. Hell, I'm bisexual myself. I know a lot about 'abnormal' sexual preferences." He chuckled and pecked Jimmy on the cheek, Jimmy flinching but not trying to protest. The two of them sat there awkwardly for a moment before Dean sighed, smiling gently and getting up. "So, shall I make us some dinner?" he chimed. Jimmy agreed happily.  
The two of them ate more or less in silence again, but Dean kept stealing glances over at Jimmy the entire time. Jimmy wasn't really worried about it, but a few times he thought Dean was about to lean over and kiss him again. After dinner, they went over to sit on the couch and watch a movie, though it was clear both of them were hardly paying attention. Jimmy sighed and decided that any time was a good time to strike up a conversation.  
"So, Dean," he started, drawing his friend's attention, "you said you haven't been with someone for a long time." Dean's face flushed and he looked down. "How long?" Dean cleared his throat, not quite prepared for that question.  
"Uh, I guess when I was in the Marines, so about ten years ago, if I'm being generous with the estimation." He sighed, shuffling a little under Jimmy's gaze. "I'm just kind of... you know, really..."  
Jimmy smirked. "Horny," he chimed in, making Dean's face go bright red. "Well... yeah," he responded. "I guess I am, huh..." Jimmy purred a little, moving closer to Dean so that he sat in his lap. Amelia would understand what he was about to do. And if she didn't... well, screw her.  
Dean seemed hesitant at first, probably thinking that Jimmy was still worried over his wife finding out what he was doing. When Jimmy started in on him, however, Dean didn't try to stop him, and instead seemed to be enjoying it as Jimmy slowly went down on him. Dean's head fell back as he felt himself getting close, but Jimmy stopped short, making Dean whine desperately. Jimmy hushed him, getting up onto the couch with him and whispering in his ear, suggesting to him that they go all the way. Dean shifted nervously, but nodded, getting out what they needed. Jimmy raised an eyebrow, teasing him for having these kinds of things just lying around, Dean arguing that you never know when you're going to need it. Jimmy agreed, pushing Dean down onto his back on the couch, starting to open him up, making Dean moan and pant and whine under him. Soon, Jimmy was working himself inside, biting his lip at the feeling of Dean's tight muscles clenching around him. Dean was embarrassingly fast, Jimmy still working inside him, nuzzling his neck as he finally reached climax, Dean happily letting Jimmy fill him. Jimmy pulled out, nearly falling down on Dean, both of them panting hard against each other's lips as they kissed happily. Dean happily fell asleep there on the couch, Jimmy leaning over him watching him happily, smiling at how peaceful he looked. He was glad to see Dean like this, not having to worry about the door being locked or the spices being in order of the alphabet. Jimmy stroked Dean's cheek gently, watching him close until he also drifted off on top of him.


	5. Chapter Four

By the time Jimmy woke up, Dean was still fast asleep beneath him. He slowly slid off of him, trying hard as he could not to wake him up, then spreading a blanket over him and kissing his forehead before going off to get coffee and make breakfast. A while later, he heard Dean whimper and looked into the living room to see him trying to sit up. Jimmy chuckled and brought a plate to Dean, as well as a cup of coffee, dragging the table closer so that Dean could eat easily without having to move too much. Dean smiled greatfully, eating as quickly as he could, obviously hungry. Jimmy patted the top of his head and went into the kitchen to fetch his own food, fixing his coffee the way he liked it for the first time in days. He came back in, sitting down next to Dean and starting to eat with him, Dean finishing first and setting his dishes down on the table, for once seeming content to leave the dirty dishes right where they were. Jimmy eventually finished his own food and got up to take the dishes to the kitchen, but to his surprise, Dean stopped him, hugging him hard before motioning for Jimmy to continue with whatever it was he had been about to do. Jimmy chuckled, glad to see that Dean had relaxed a bit about things being out of order, but by the time he came back, the table had been pushed back into position, matched up to dents in the floor where it had obviously stood for a very long time. Jimmy shrugged, having expected nothing less, and came to sit back down with Dean. He looked over at him curiously, wondering if he was going to have to start the conversation, but just then Dean decided to pipe up.  
"Um... I just wanted to say thank you. You know, for, um... last night." Jimmy nodded in response, smiling a little. "So, you enjoyed that?" he asked slyly, maybe hoping it would be more than a one night stand. Judging by the look Dean gave him, yes, it would be many many more nights than just one.  
That's when there was a loud knock at the door, both men freezing where they were. Dean seemed ready to attack, but stood slowly, limping to a bookshelf and reaching behind a stack of books to produce a pistol, which he stuck down the back of his jeans under his jacket.  
The next round of knocking was a bit more frantic, which made Dean even more nervous. "Jimmy, I swear to God if that's the CIA and you led them here-" He ranted on as he unlocked the front door, swinging it open and reaching around to his back to feel for the gun, but he relaxed minimally when he saw it was just a police man. "Jimmy, I assume this is for you." He stepped out of the way, the officer smiling at him and tipping his hat. Jimmy strode up slowly, hardly breathing at all.  
"Novak... Jimmy Novak, yes?" he asked thoughtfully as he flipped through a case file. "Mister Novak, we've found some evidence against you in a recent murder investigation. If you could come down to the station with us, it would be much appreciated." Jimmy noticed the officer's hand was on his pistol. Best not to argue, he supposed, and looked over to Dean. He mouthed goodbye, leaning in to kiss him quickly and hoping the officer wouldn't notice. He followed the man out of Dean's house, hearing the bolts slide back into place behind them as they left. He got in the the back of the cruiser - the first time he'd been in one in his life, he would have you know - and tried to relax as the officer drove them down to the station.  
As they arrived at the police station, Jimmy felt an aggresive gnawing of anxiety in his stomach. He tried to tell himself to keep calm, but he wasn't sure anymore if he was really innocent or not, so he couldn't exactly plead innocent. Besides, if they didn't find the evidence to prove who the real killer was, he would be convicted, guilty or not, and he didn't exactly like the idea of being put in the electric chair. Actually, did they even do that anymore, or was it just lethal injection? Jimmy shook his head. Why on earth would he want to think about that?  
He got out of the car and walked along behind the officer, planning out what he was going to do. He thought it best to simply cooperate with them and answer all of their questions as honestly as he could. It wasn't exactly a perfect system, but it would at least keep him out of the mess that lying to them would bring. He hoped.  
As Jimmy walked in through the front doors, the inside of the station was actually nothing like what he thought it would be like. For some reason, he had expected all of the officers in the building to be standing around the door waiting to attack him with a barrage of questions along the lines of "why did you kill that man", but luckily that wasn't the case. Instead, people stood idly by, most holding conversations with each other, some simply loitering around the coffee machine but saying nothing. This made Jimmy marginally less anxious, but he still felt his pulse racing hard, blood pounding through his ears and making him lightheaded. The officer lead him over to a simple desk, sitting him down on one side as the other man went around to sit opposite him. Not really an interrogation, but something like the setup of one, Jimmy thought.  
"Now, son," the officer began as gently as he could, "We have quite a bit of substantial evidence against you in this case, I regret to inform you. The victim in question was Evan Foster. Does that name ring any bells to you? Happen to know that guy, do you?" Jimmy simply shook his head and the officer nodded. "Well, he was murdered while walking home along the street you drive to go to work. His time of death matches up rather well with the time you left work, but the biggest problem is..." He sighed, opening the file he held and pulling out a few pictures. One was an extremely greusome picture of the man's corpse, the other of a steak knife. "We were able to lift your prints off of not only the weapon found at the scene, but also the body. Now, son, a kitchen knife shouldn't be able to do this much damage, and I doubt that you're strong enough to rip a man appart like this, but the state of things being what it is... You're unfortunatly suspect number one." Jimmy's breath caught in his throat and he tried to keep his eyes off of the picture of the victim, his whole body shaking in fear.  
Jimmy swallowed hard, holding his hands to his face, over his eyes, nearly crying from the anxiety. He shook his head and sighed softly, grabbing his hair in his hands and trying to keep himself from sobbing. He eventually managed to calm himself down, looking up at the man. "Okay... I am really, really sorry about that. I'm just kind of emotional over it. I mean, I don't remember anything about that night, to be honest." The officer nodded slowly, seeming interrested, and Jimmy continued. "All I really remember was that I was driving home from work, a little later than usual, and I started to see lights flicker and then noticed a man walking down the street. I never saw his face so I couldn't say who it was, but after I saw him I just kind of... don't remember anything else. I apparently got back home at four in the morning, but I woke up on the couch and I was..." He sighed, fighting with himself trying to decide whether or not to add the last bit. "I was covered in blood. It was all over my clothes."  
The officer came around the desk to look at Jimmy, leaning over him to watch him. "Really, is that so? That sounds like a confession to me." Jimmy flinched. "I honestly don't think I killed that man, officer. I know that there's so much evidence against me, but... I just don't think I would be capable of that."  
The officer nodded. "Even though you have schizophrenia?" he asked, his tone cold. Jimmy shrugged at that, not exactly offended but his skin prickling anyway. "Yes, even though I have schizophrenia," he said a bit more harshly than he meant to. "I don't think I would ever be able to do that to another human being. Just the thought of it makes me sick!" The officer seemed unconvinced, but shrugged. "Mental illness can make people do very strange things. Things they normally wouldn't. I think this is one of those cases, Jimmy. I'm sure that you're telling the truth that you don't remember it, but sometimes people with mental illnesses do things without realising. I've been told by people around the town who know you that you're a nice, trustworthy man, and I would love to believe that. The problem is Jimmy, even a nice, trustworthy man can succumb to mental illness, and the sad truth of it is that you look like you have." Jimmy scowled, not pleased with being spoken to like a child, but didn't argue. He nodded slowly. "I understand," he said reluctantly, fists cleched under the desk, though his stomach churned at the idea. He sighed and relaxed a bit, though he could still feel a clenching tense feeling in his chest. Whatever the officer was saying to him after that, he only half heard as he tried desperatly not to faint then and there, his vision fading into gray for a momemt as he sat there. Something about a trial tomorrow. Staying in the jail that night. Just to make sure.  
Jimmy was pulled to his feet and was informed he could make one call. He shrugged, going to the phone and dialing what he thought was Dean's number, though he didn't expect him to answer. After one and a half rings, there was a voice on the other end that sounded myseriously similar to Dean's, and Jimmy smiled. "Hello," he chimed, though Dean quickly cut him off.  
"Where the hell are you are you in jail what are they going to do to you do the have evidence agianst you Jimmy what the hell, tell me!"  
Jimmy sighed, hesitating because of the crazy string of questions, but was relieved that he had gottne through to Dean at all. "Dean," he muttered, "I'm fine, okay? I don't think you have to worry. They're going to get me an attorney and we're going to figure out my plea. They have my prints from the scene and apparently someone saw me covered in blood, so my case isn't exactly strong on the 'not guilty' side of things. If there's some kind of proof of my innocence that I don't know about, great, but I'm afraid they're gonna fry me, Dean. There's no getting out of this." Dean muttered to himself, shaking his head on the other end of the phone.  
"Jimmy," he growled, "I swear to God I am not going to let those bastards kill you. I know you didn't comit this crime and God damn it, I'm going to prove it if it kills me." He thought for a moment, the sound of his breathing the only thing coming through the speaker. "Talk to your attorney about it first, but I think the best plea would be not guilty by means of insanity."  
Jimmy winced, scowling and crossing his arms. "Excuse you, Dean? I am not insane, thank you very much." Dean rolled his eyes, saying that he understood that.  
"It's just a better plea, Jimmy. They won't kill you for being insane, they'll just put you in an institution until they think you aren't dangerous, which you aren't already, so I assume that they'll let you out pretty fast."  
Jimmy smiled a little, but made his voice continue to sound stern and angry. "What in God's name do you mean I'm not dangerous, Dean. I'm plenty dangerous if I want to be."  
Dean rolled his eyes, chuckling. "Alright, zip up and put away the ruler, you win this one. It's like you're never satisfied." Jimmy decided to keep being a smartass. "I dunno, you do a pretty good job at satisfying me, Dean." Dean tried not to choke on whatever he was drinking. Jimmy smirked, proud of himself.  
"Okay, okay," Dean said with a strangled sound to his voice, "now's not the time for that. I'll see you when you get home, Jimmy. I'll miss you. You, um... you are coming back to stay with me, aren't you?" Jimmy sighed softly. "I don't know," he admitted. "We'll see, Dean."  
Dean tried not to be hurt by that, honestly, but after they said their goodbyes and hung up, Dean felt the familiar sensation of wanting to cry. He shook his head, trying to avoid the invevitable, but eventually the tears came. He honestly wasn't sure why he was crying. Sure, Jimmy had been a big help to him and had been a pleasure to have around. Sure they were... together for a while, he guessed, but Jimmy was married. It was only obvious that the guy would want to get back to his wife and daughter after all of this was over. Dean probably meant nothing to him, and he was strangely okay with that after a while. Dean had never really meant that much to anyone in the first place, so why would he expcet this guy who was more or less a stranger to really give a flying fuck about him when no one else had his whole life? Dean spent the rest of the day cleaning the house and straightening the pantry, and went to bed still strangely upset that Jimmy would be leaving him. He still intenended to be at his trial, but Jimmy was either going to be put in the penitentiary, put to death, or taken away to a mental hospital. The thought of any of those things made Dean's skin crawl and brought tears back to his eyes, but eventually he slept, having nightmares of murder and court dates and prison.  
The next morning, Dean woke with a start, looking over to the clock and realsiing that he needed to hurry if he was ever going to make it to Jimmy's trial on time. He struggled with it for a moment, knowing that there would be people there. Then again, he couldn't be sure exactly how many people. Jimmy didn't seem like a popular guy at all from what Dean knew. He mostly seemed like a recluse, like Dean was himself, but at least he had something of a social web that he could fall back on. Surely his wife had a lot of friends, some of which whom probably gave a rat's ass about Jimmy. Maybe.  
Dean sighed and went about getting himself ready, dressing as formally as he could with his wide array of plaid collared shirts and jeans. Eventually he found a suit tucked away in the back of his closet and put it on, nodding at himself in the mirror. He looked like ab FBI agent or something. He laughed at the idea, going to slip on a pair of dress shoes, combing his hair and brushing his teeth, deciding to skip breakfast altogether. Jimmy was more important.  
By the time Dean got to the car, one he hadn't driven in God only knows how long, he started to doubt himself. He was eventually able to coax himself to get behind the wheel with the thought that there probably wouldn't be as many people present as he feared. He took a deep breath, slipping into the driver's seat of the black 1967 Impala, starting her up and smiling at the sound of the engine's purr. He nodded to himself, clicking a button to open the garage door and backing out, starting off to the courthouse.  
Dean had to admit to himself, he had no idea the fucking courthouse was this big. This was a little bit too much for him, but he decided he couldn't just quit now, and forced himself inside. He was nervously shuffled around through security and eventually found wherever Jimmy's trial was. He had no clue how he got there, to be honest. He had never been in this place in his life, so he mostly just went about asking people who looked important. He took a seat in a mostly deserted part of the large room, looking around. He noticed a family sitting on the other side of the room from him, most of them seeming upset. Probably the victim's family, he thought to himself, looking up to the front. Jimmy was sittng there, wherever there was. That place the accused sits. Was there a word for that? Dean didn't know anything about government; he was just here to look pretty. It took him a few moments to realise that Amelia was here as well, sitting a few rows ahead of him, a little girl sitting in her lap. Oh, really, are you joking? Who brings their kid to watch their husband's murder trial? Dean shook his head. What weird things parents did.  
Dean ended up not paying attention to large parts of the trial, zoning out at random times, only really paying attention when Jimmy was on the stand. From what Dean heard, Jimmy told the truth as well as he could, which Dean figured was a good option when you're wanted for murder. And then Jimmy was asked for his plea.  
Not guilty by means of insanity.  
A few shocked gasps came from those present, thought the most noticible was Amelia's. Jimmy's face was grim as he looked out at them, the only people gathered there for him. Amelia probably thought that Jimmy was looking at her, but Dean knew better, locking eyes with the man. He winced at how sad Jimmy looked, how utterly lifeless his eyes were as he stared back at Dean. Records were brought forth from doctors and psychologists and psychiatrists, all to prove Jimmy's mental illness. Dean missed most of what happened as the sound of the family of the victim screamed, half of them demanding Jimmy be given the death penalty and the other half shouting that he couldn't be the killer, that he was too sweet and gentle a man. The judge smashed his gavel down and the room fell silent, no one objecting now. Jimmy was told that he was to be put in a mental hospital until the doctors found that he was no longer dangerous. He would be leaving within the hour, and was told to say his goodbyes. The hearing was adjourned, and Jimmy started to the seats. Amelia stood up, about to come and confront him, though Dean couldn't tell what exactly she had in mind. Jimmy stopped her with a single look, some kind of silent communication between them. Their daughter- Dean thought it was Cathy or Cindy or something like that- didn't seem to understand, calling to her father. Jimmy smiled at her sadly, stopping for a moment before he kept walking, coming to Dean and pulling him after him.  
Dean was shocked for a few seconds, but followed after Jimmy obediantly as he lead him out of the courtroom. When Jimmy came to a stop, Dean slowed to a halt, both of them turning to stare at the other. Jimmy was the first to speak.  
"Dean," he began, almost sounding sad, "I am so sorry about all of this. I guess that a mental hospital is better than being dead, but-"  
Dean pulled him into a tight hug, patting his back gently, though he was tempted to kiss him insetead. Jimmy pulled away, but smiled greatfully. "Look, Dean... I don't regret what we did. Hell, I'm happy about it, really. But I'm married. I have a daughter. I need to take care of my child." Dean nodded. He was trying to understand, really, but he had never been in such a commitment with someone as Jimmy was with his wife, so he was a bit distanced from it in a way. Jimmy in turn tried to understand where Dean was coming from, but he was honestly torn enough as it was. "Dean, really," he muttered, "I want to be with you. I love you and Amelia, and that's a hard place to be, but... To be honest with you, I'm not so sure about Amelia. She was more likely than not the one who told the police about me coming home covered in blood. She testified agaisnt me, for God's sake! But you... you were here even though you didn't have to be. You weren't here to give your testimony on if I should be convicted or not. You're here because you care about me. Amelia was here because she wanted to watch me burn." He shook his head, lips curling into a snarl for a moment before he managed to calm himself down. He looked back up at Dean, more composed now. "I'm going to talk to her, Dean. I just... want to thank you for being here. For supporting me." He grabbed both of Dean's hands and held them for a moment, looking into his eyes and smiling, leaning in to quickly press a soft kiss to his cheek before pulling away, leaving Dean standing there awkwardly as Jimmy polietly said goodbye and walked off to find his wife. Dean wasn't able to speak to Jimmy again before he was taken off to the mental hospital, given a police escort there, but he got a call that night, just around 7 o'clock.  
He answered the phone eagerly in the middle of the first ring, greated by Jimmy's soft, sing-song voice on the other end.  
"Hello, beautiful," Jimmy chimed, making Dean's heart leap a little. "Hello, yourself, Jimmy," he reponded, trying to sound both teasing and aloof at the same time. "What the hell happened, man? They just whisked you away without a trace!" Jimmy chuckled softly, not seeming too worried about it, and he really wasn't if he was honest.  
"Well, Dean, I'm in the hospital at this point. It's like an actual hospital except it dosen't smell like death and medicine. Mostly like waffles, to be honest. It's really nice here, though. The nurses are sweet and helpful, and some of the patients that I've met are also really friendly. There's one woman here who sees her dead son. It's really sad, but I think that in some way, seeing him also brings her comfort. There's also thi-" Dean cut him off there.  
"Jimmy, it's nice you're making friends. Now tell me, what exactly is happening with you? I mean, first off, I'm curious about what happened with Amelia."  
Jimmy seemed ready to rant again. "Well, Dean, I went in to speak with her and to make a long story short, she told me that she can't believe I would kill someone and that she hates me and that she's going to divorce me and make sure I don't have any custody of Claire-" Dean huffed. Claire, not Cathy. "But anyway," Jimmy continued, "I'm not really too worried about it. I can't change anything, but I talked to Claire and she says she knows I didn't do it. I admire her trust in me, but I wish that she didn't have to know about this." There was a small pause, some chattering in the background. "Though, Dean, there was one thing she said that kind of bothered me." Dean waited patiently for Jimmy to speak again, but he was for a shockingly long moment. "Dean, she told me that she knew who the real killer was."


	6. Chapter Five

Jimmy had promised to keep Dean updated on his life at the hospital, but he honestly almost forgot every night to check in after his group therapy and call Dean. Dean tried to undestand. Jimmy seemed to really love being at the hospital, and constantly talked about how great it felt to be surrounded by people who understood his condition. Dean was a bit more nervous over it when Jimmy told him that he felt fine with openly speaking about his and Dean's relationship, especially after having told them about Amelia and Claire. Dean tried not to be concerned about what people thought on the subject, but he was honestly very self concious about it because of his dad ingraining homophobia into every aspect of Dean's life. He tried his hardest, nevertheless, to be supportive of Jimmy in his new environment, even if they could only talk on the phone.  
Jimmy usually called Dean right after his group therapy sessions, then went to bed. The routine of the day wasn't very strict, luckily. There were mealtimes and shower times and times to take medication, which Jimmy was actually fine with taking for the first time in his life. He would usually sit around in the rec room and talk to other patients every day, making friends quickly. Some of the people here were rather rude or mean, but most that Jimmy spoke to were more than happy to see a new face around the hospital. As calm and relaxed as it was here, and as little as he had to worry about what used to stress him out, he couldn't imagine spending very long here and secretly hoped to leave soon. He wanted to get back to Dean and keep helping him. He talked about all of this to the kind man he had met that day, the man seeming to understand both how Jimmy felt and also Dean's own predicament. The man in question, Victor Hendrickson, had been commited to the hospital after being diagnosed with PTSD far too severe to continue functioning properly, a result of something he had seen in his career as a police officer. Jimmy had a long talk with him, but Victor never said exactly what had happened, so Jimmy thought it best not to ask. The two of them went into the cafe for lunch, sitting together at a table with a few of Jimmy's other friends, Jimmy introducing Victor and helping him get to know more people. It was like high school, except no pressure to act "normal" or to conform with the cool kids, and no work to be done. The most that Jimmy did in the first week or so of being there was probably just his art therapy. Some of the patients there with him found the art therapy to be stupid and childish, but Jimmy had always loved art, so he didn't mind it much, especially since he had at least an above adverage skill at it.  
One of the nurses at the hospital, Meg, was constantly very sweet to Jimmy in a way that almost made him uncomfortable. He loved her bedside manner because of this, but it was a bit awkward for him, as she kept compairing him to someone named Clairence. Though she would never explain who exactly Clairence was, he got the impression that she was in love with him. Jimmy didn't know what to make of it, but Dean sounded jealous when he told him about this. Dean told him to be careful while he was there, and that he couldn't be sure who he could trust. Jimmy somewhat took that advice, but wasn't honestly too worried about the people here turning against him. Jimmy began to spend more time alone, though, as his doctors thought that it would be helpful for him to spend a little more time relaxing alone. Jimmy wasn't going to argue with his doctors, happily doing as they said if it meant he could go home sooner. He was told that he might benefit from more time outside, so he was shown to the courtyard, asked if it was the kind of place he might like to relax. Jimmy happily answered that it was perfect.  
The courtyard of the hospital had an old, dreary garden in the centre of it, filled with wilted plants of all kinds, the dead petals of flowers coated in frost, quickly icing over for the winter. Despite the look of death it had about it, Jimmy found the place calming, and would tend to sneak out there any time he could. At first he would only go out at permitted times, but as he got more used to the facility, he would attempt to sneak past the guards during meal times and medication times, but was almost always stopped. Eventually, people realised that Jimmy wasn't going to be giving them any real problems and allowed him to come and go to and from the courtyard as he pleased, so long as he still always took his medicine and didn't leave the facility, which was honestly fine with obeying for the time being. He still called Dean every day, still missed him, still wanted to return home to him, but was content for the time being until he was told he could go home. Every week he would talk to a psychologist who would evaluate him, but the doctor saw that Jimmy was really making progress with his recovery, so he decided to keep him a bit longer. Nurse Meg Masters was eternally pleased with this. Dean seemed angry, however, each time Jimmy would call him and report how much longer he was staying. Dean tried to say he was fine with it as long as Jimmy was feeling better. Jimmy knew that was crap.  
Within the last month that Jimmy spent in the hospital, he began to feel much better than he had in a very long time, but he still anxiously awaited the day he was told he would be released, still speaking with Dean every day and trying to help him through his daily difficulties. Dean seemed to be a lot calmer by the end of a conversation than he was at the beginning of the call. Dean felt horribly guilty about the whole thing, thinking he was inconveniancing Jimmy in some way, but Jimmy kept trying to make it clear to him that it was not a problem and that he was perfectly happy with helping Dean through whatever he wanted his assistance with. Dean didn't stop feeling guilty, but he let Jimmy continue to help him all the same. After a few more weeks of Jimmy staying there, Dean finally admitted something to him. He had apparently been trying to find out who the actual murderer was while Jimmy had been away, which made Jimmy a bit nervous at first until Dean started to talk through it.  
Apparently he had been stalking around the office building where Jimmy had worked, which was maybe a bad idea because there was a murder there, but Dean said that he was fine and that he knew how to avoid getting reported as being suspicious. Jimmy was confused , but Dean explained to him that it was because of his paranoia and military background, so Jimmy just accepted that and let Dean explain. Apparently Dean had been watching the area with hidden cameras he had put in the area. He reported that he hadn't seen much going on in the area, but that he had seen one person in the area who didn't seem to have been quite right. "Other than yourself?" Jimmy had asked sassily, to which Dean replied with a sarcastic laugh and a "fuck you" before continuing.  
"Well, Jimmy, if you're quite finished being a smartass. Okay, so this guy, right. He's just so weird. And before you say it, yes, weirder than me. He comes into the office building every now and again posing as a delivery man, but each time he comes in, he sneaks off and hacks into the mainframe. I've been watching it for a long time, he does this like three times a week and he's creepy as hell."  
Jimmy thought for a moment. "Shit, Dean, I know who you're talking about now. Alastiar, Al, he used to come in so often to drop things off but our inventory was falling behind and we couldn't figure out why. Any idea what kind of information he was trying to get?"  
Dean nodded. "He's looking for the personal information of everyone working in your building. I'm almost possitive that he's some kind of serial killer who frames others for his crimes. I mean he's just too weird for me to think otherwise I guess. Either way, I'd venture a guess that he chose you to frame because of your mental illness. He's got access to all of your personal information, including your medical records, though the database of your office. The only question now is how your prints got to the scene. And what the fuck the knife was about. A knife wouldn't do this. Judging by these pictures of the victim's corpse, it would have taken a chainsaw or some shit, or a man hopped up on some serious steriods. I mean, if you have some kind of Jekyel and Hyde thing going on, I guess it could be possible, but my sources say it's unlikely. Judging by the drug test they gave you, which they seem to have overlooked as evidence, there were sedatives found in your system. Powerful ones which would take away memory of a while before and a while after you would have passed out. I'm guessing that he probably carjacked and drugged you, and that's why you couldn't remember it."  
Jimmy's blood ran cold and he caught up with Dean's logic. The real killer was Alastair, Al for short, and he had been the man on the road. He had drugged him and planted his prints at the scene. He had covered him in blood. He had known people would assume it was Jimmy who had killed the man because of his schizophrenia. Alastair had obviously been careful not to be caught, but it seemed that no one could evade Dean Winchester, master detective. Jimny tried to blow it off with humor, but it was hardly hiding his fear at this point. "You're some kind of natural Sherlock Holmes aren't you, Dean?" Dean rolled his eyes, but was silently very proud of himself and took Jimmy's joke as a compliment.  
"Anyway, Dean, how do you plan to get this guy convicted? Do you have any evidence? I mean, hard evidence that won't also incriminate you for being creepy or stalking or something." Dean huffed a little at that, but seemed to accept that as a valid argument.  
"I'll figure it out eventually," he muttered. "I mean, I've already got it figured out. Except the way to make it not sound like I've been acting like a creep." Jimmy couldn't help but laugh, disgusing it as a cough very poorly.  
"It's okay, Dean, do what you can. The doctors are starting to talk about letting me leave soon, okay? I'll be home before you know it and then we can work on this together, if you want."  
Dean's eyes lit up and he smiled uncontrollably. "Jimmy, why didn't you say that in the first place, you idiot!? Jesus, I'm so glad I'm finally going to have you back!" Jimmy tried not to blush as Dean gushed on about how much he had missed him and how happy he would be for him to be home. It was especially hard to keep his face from heating up once Dean told him how much he had missed him since their little romantic get together on the couch that night. Jimmy didn't want to admit it, but he had felt the same way, though they may have mutually hinted to each other what they had been doing in their absence to help with that... lonely feeling. Dean decided to go into detail about his actions and Jimmy was more than happy to sneak off to his room after their call ended and do something similar to himself. If Dean had known, he would have been giddy as a schoolgirl.  
The next few days were uneventful for both Jimmy and Dean. Jimmy because he was in a mental hospital, which in and of itself is pretty damn boring, and Dean because he honestly didn't know how to pretend he knew this stuff without admitting he had hacked anything or spied on anyone or... well, anything that sounded either creepy or illegal. He spent most of his days sitting around watching tv, eating pie and pretending to be working on something just to make himself feel a little less lazy than he actually was. More or less what he had been doing for about ten years of his life. Jimmy was happy to assist over the phone any way he could, but Dean seemed a little bit resistant to actually do anywork. He said he was trying, and truthfully he was, but he wasn't sure how to do the whole normal thing and Jimmy wasn't as much help when he wasn't there to constantly nag Dean to do his work. Of course, Dean wanted to work hard to have Jimmy's name cleared, but he was just tired and unhappy at the moment. At the moment meaning almost every moment of every day. He hid it rather well from Jimmy from the very beginning, but he had been worse than ever since he had left.  
The day Jimmy was supposed to come home, Dean was all aglow with excitement. He had hardly slept the night before, but he was still wide awake when he heard the taxi pulling up outside in the driveway. He rushed to the door, unlocking it and throwing it open just as Jimmy started a quick, awkward jog up to meet him. Jimmy happily swung his arms around Dean as he reached him, Dean pulling him into a tight hug as Jimmy kissed his cheek gently, making Dean's face go bright red. He pulled Jimmy inside, closing the door behind him without even locking it once, and pushed his friend down onto the couch. He sat down next to Jimmy, wrapping his arms around him and butting his head against Jimmy's shoulder, nuzzling at his neck a little. Jimmy wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders, holding him close, and they sat there like that for several hours, ignoring the rest of the world even as rain pelted the window and a storm kicked up outside. Jimmy discovered a few things in that time, though, so it wasn't completely uneventful. The first thing being that Dean was terribly afraid of storms, almost as afraid as he was of spiders. Second, Dean went nuts when Jimmy kissed his forehead. For some reason, he seemed to absolutely love it; blushing and squirming and smiling wider than Jimmy thought he ever would. It made Jimmy happy to see Dean react like this, and kept on kissing him and kissing him until they were making out aggresivly and pulling at each others clothes.  
The last thing Jimmy learned was that Dean was horny.  
By Dean's suggestion, what they did that night might have involved handcuffs and blindfolds, something Jimmy had never personally been interrested in but was more than happy to try. He was honestly happy that he went through with it, despite his inital nervousness. By the end of the night, Dean had Jimmy trussed up and helpless, sucked dry and now being pounded into. Jimmy wouldn't have complained even if he was still capable of speach, but he settled with just happily slurring out incomprehensible moans. Once Dean had finished up, deep inside of him, he undid Jimmy's bonds, removed the blindfold, and curled up with him contentedly, praising him and reminding him he loved him before they both drifted off to sleep, Jimmy in Dean's arms.  
The next morning, Jimmy was more than happy to lie with Dean as he slept on for a few more hours after Jimmy woke up himself. He had just begun to drift back off by the time he felt Dean stir behind him, but was fine with waking back up, turning around to Dean to hug him and nuzzle into his chest. Dean blushed, but didn't really object, instead chosing to nose into Jimmy's hair gently, smiling and kissing him a few times before suggesting that he get up and make them both breakfast. Jimmy agreed, but Dean told him that he didn't get off so easy and that he had to come help. After all, they had a murderer to hunt down, so Dean would need all the help he could get. Witch anything he needed help with. Jimmy couldn't help but laugh, but agreed more than happily.  
The two of them dragged themselves out of bed and into the kitchen, Dean starting on making them eggs and bacon while Jimmy sat about making coffee. He constantly complained as he waited for Dean to finish the food, saying that he was sore from the previous night, but when Dean handed him a plate of bacon, Jimmy seemed willing to forget about the pain in his bum and enjoy the greasy food in front of him. Dean sat across from him, Jimmy getting them both a cup of coffee, and they sat there happily eating in silence. As soon as they had both finished, Dean washed their plates and helped Jimmy to the couch, deciding to take at least a little pitty on him. They sat there together, Jimmy's head resting on Dean's shoulder and Dean's laptop resting on his knees as they went through the evidence Dean had compiled against Alastiar. Jimmy was happy to watch Dean work, trying to help him where he could with ideas of how to present it to the autorities without also incriminating Dean. Jimmy and Dean talked about it for a long time, dotted with moments where Dean would stop and kiss Jimmy's cheek and tell him how glad he was to have him home. Jimmy kept laughing and kissing him back, then forcing his attention back to their work. Dean still ended up getting horribly distracted, as he tended to do whenever he didn't have a definate, physical workload and was simply working on ideas. Jimmy tried to keep him focused but Dean didn't exactly seem to be thinking with his upstairs brain at the moment, which Jimmy found a little awkward because of the fact that they were discussing how to incriminate a murderer. Especially one that had done such a disgusting, brutal thing as mutillating the body as he had. Eventually to get out of the work of thinking about this whole thing, he simply decided to give the evidence to the police and openly confess that he had gotten most of it by illegal means. He assumed that his punishment would be less severe because of his assistance in solving such a brutal murder, but he still didn't exactly want to risk getting seperated from Jimmy again. Jimmy shrugged and agreed that there was more or less no way in hell that they would be able to claim that they had any knowledge of this by non-illegal means, and they decided to spend the rest of the day cuddling on the couch and watching tv movies, flipping between channels randomly until they found something that was maybe watchable. Most of what was on was the same kind of trashy soap opera garbage and talk show bullcrap that was on almost all of the time every day. Eventually they decided to just watch a movie which seemed like a romantic comedy from the summary on the channel guide, but they were a little bit too involved in their own sort of romantic comedy on the other side of the screen. The TV as comforting background noise, Jimmy was content to let Dean treat him to a little "tender love and care", Dean finding ways to remind Jimmy that he knew exactly where to put his hands and how to use them to make Jimmy go mad. Within just a few minutes, Dean had finished Jimmy off and was putting on a bit of a show for his friend (or lover?) by working on his own needs, releasing onto his face and purring in satisfaction as he watched Jimmy wipe off the mess with a tissue. Jimmy wasn't quite as pleased, but still fiound it hotter than hell, not complaining a single bit. Dean sat back down with Jimmy after that, snuggling up to him, Jimmy's arms around him as they sat there together, happy and content to just be with each other. After a few more hours of sitting there watching awful television, they headed off to bed. To Jimmy's surprise, Dean grabbed his shirt sleeve before he could go into his own room and pulled him further down the hall.  
Dean's room was a bit messier than Jimmy had seen it since he came here to stay with him, but he assumed that maybe Dean had just been so busy with trying to clear his name, and also probably worried sick about him in the hospital, that he probably just hadn't had time to clean up. Jimmy was more than happy with it, though, and lay down with Dean happily in the nest of crumpled sheets, pulling the blankets and the duvet over them as Jimmy happily drifted off to sleep.  
Dean was awake much, much longer than Jimmy was, simply sitting there for a few more hours and watching his friend (or lover, jesus they needed to figure that part out) sleeping soundly in his arms. He eventually lay his head down and closed his eyes, not quite awake but also not quite asleep, caught in that state where one is too close to conciousness to forget the world, but too far away to care anymore. Morning came after an uncomfortably long night of Dean shifting about as Jimmy slept soundly next to him, the light slapping Dean's face hard and jolting him awake. He sat up to see Jimmy standing there- when had he gotten up?- with the curtains of the window pulled back triumphantly, smirking down at Dean as he looked up, blinking, into the light. Jimmy patted Dean's head, even as he started yelling at him for waking him up, and Jimmy skittered out of the room quickly as he could to avoid Dean tossing pillows as angrily as he could. Jimmy decided to set about making breakfast and hoped that today would be more productive than the last.


	7. Chapter Six

Jimmy's hope was not in vain. He and Dean ate breakfast together as they usually did, sitting there in silence and trying not to make it awkward that they kept glancing up at each other. Jimmy had made them hot chocolate and pancakes this morning, which Dean was pleased with and considered quite a treat, but Jimmy assured him that it would be just enough of a rarity to still be minimaly indulgent. He also assured Dean that he deserved it, which Dean would have argued with, but he was too lost in his hot chocolate to really care. Jimmy made amazing hot chocolate. It was something he had prided himself on for almost as long as he could remember, and he was happy to show it off to Dean. Dean was silently greatful, but was too busy stuffing his face to actually thank him until later.  
"Later" came in the usual form of them sitting on the couch together and watching television, but Dean surprised Jimmy by suddenly turning it off. Jimmy didn't mind; he hadn't really been watching whatever garbage was playing anyway, but it did kind of catch him off guard. He looked over to Dean and it seemed they had the same thing on their minds. No, this isn't another sex scene, you horny buggers.  
Dean smiled at Jimmy as casually as he could, wrapping his arms around him and kissing his cheek. "Hey, so... I was wondering if we could... talk, maybe." Jimmy answered that he would be more than happy to, and Dean started to slowly rub his back. "Well," he started, sounding a bit nervous, "I just kind of wanted to ask you about our, um... relationship." Jimmy nodded, not really worried at all about what Dean was going to say. Dean shrugged a bit before continuing. "Well, I'm just kind of wondering if we're... you know... together. I mean, you're still married to Amelia, after all, and... I don't want to interfere with your life to that level."  
Jimmy held up a hand to stop him. "What if I want you to interfere to that level?" Dean was silent, so Jimmy continued. "Look, I loved Amelia, but now... I'm not so sure. She was just afraid of what it would mean if I was a killer, but... she testified against me and she said she was going to file for divorce. Not to mention she said she knew I was a murderer and had been expecting it." He sighed, slumping forward a little, his head in his hands. "But Claire. I'm just really worried about her." His eyes snapped open as he and Dean both realised something crucial they had both missed, those idiots.  
"Claire." They both bolted from where they sat, making themselves decent to leave the house and rushing over to Jimmy's house next door.  
Amelia opened the door after a few knocks, and would have slammed it shut in their faces if Dean hadn't stuck his foot between it and the doorframe. He winced at the pain of it, but was mostly fine judging by the way he proceeded to shove the door back open and knock Amelia back a bit. Jimmy didn't exactly agree with his methods, but he knew that they needed into that house and fast. Jimmy strode forward as confidently as he could, but his wife had always been the dominant one in their relationship, so he wasn't sure how it was going to pan out.  
"Amelia, where is Claire?" he demanded, crossing his arms in an attempt to look threatening. She simply laughed bitterly.  
"Get out of my house, JImmy," she snapped, trying to make a barrier between the next room over with her own body. Claire stood on the couch behind her mother and waved to her dad. Jimmy nearly felt his heart shatter. He hissed and started toward Amelia, trying to shove her out of the way but somehow ending up pinned against the neighboring wall, the breath knocked out of him and his eyes widened. Dean pulled her off, holding her wrists, but Jimmy shook his head and Dean released her. Jimmy and Amelia scowled at each other, Dean standing there watching in annoyance. He didn't want to watch this domestic drama unfold. As Dean was silently bitching to himself about the scene in front of him. Jimmy and Amelia bussied themselved with a screaming match, Amelia trying to convince Jimmy to leave her and Claire while Jimmy tried to convince her that he wasn't danagerous and that they had evidence of the real murderer. Suddenly, there was a deafening crashing sound and they all fell silent. A thump followed from the front yard. Jimmy and Dean reached the door first, but Amelia was hot on their heels.  
A fresh corpse sat on the walk in front of the door, blood pouring from the man's body. He appeared to be only a year or two older than Jimmy, though it was difficult to tell with half of his skull blown out, brain matter spread across the pavement. Dean hardly reacted, but Amelia started screaming and Jimmy vomited into the bushes.  
"The man must have been here!" Claire shouted from inside, trying to run out, but her mother stopped her and pushed her back into the house, screaming for her to stay there. Dean reached into the back of his trousers and pulled out a pistol, cocking the gun and training the aim around wildly, though he couldn't find anything to hint at what had happened. That is, until there was an awful, sickening thump at the back of the house, followed by fast footsteps. Dean rushed around back, ready to shoot, but by the time he got there, whoever it was had run off. Jimmy and Amelia were back in the front of the house and Dean headed back around, tucking the gun away again. He patted Jimmy's back as he started to vomit again, laughing a little, but then turned to Amelia rather seriously. "Call the police. We'll find the guy who did this. He can't have done this without leaving prints." Amelia silently ran into the house and dialed 9-1-1, dragging Claire after her and holding her close as she gave the information to the cops.  
The police arrived only a few minutes later, a few cruisers pulling up in front of the house. Jimmy, Dean and Amelia tried to work together to tell what had happened, the other officers searching the house and the surrounding areas, the coroners taking the body away as Amelia hid Claire's eyes. After they had gathered all the information the three knew, they headed off back to the police station, though several officers were sent to search for the murderer.  
That night, the body was identified of one of Jimmy's , not friends really, but aquaintences. He lived a few doors down from his house, a man named Rodger. They had known each other for a few years, but weren't extremely close. They had gone out drinking a few times. Rodger had taught Jimmy to play poker. They had gone fishing one or twice. His death hurt a lot more than it maybe should have, and Jimmy cried himself to sleep that night, burried tightly in Dean's arms. He wasn't going to deny that he was blaming himself for Rodger's death. After all, the killer was likely the same one who killed Evan, and killed Rodger as a message to Jimmy. It made him increasingly nervous as he only half slept, eventually waking up to the first panic attack he'd had in ages. He accidently woke Dean up, who tried to comfort him, but Jimmy simply pushed him away, crying and sobbing, obviously hysterical. After a while of screaming into a pillow, he finally calmed back down and fell asleep, curling into Dean a bit. Dean worried about him, but quickly fell back asleep as well, nuzzled into Jimmy's hair.  
The next morning, Rodger's death was on the news. Jimmy spent the day curled up on the couch, wrapped tightly in a thick fleece blanket. Dean did the cooking, cleaned the house, then came to sit with Jimmy. He found some stupid feel-good movie on the television to try to help him forget, but judging by his random crying fits, he just couldn't stop thinking about it. Dean couldn't blame him, really. One of his friends had just died. Despite what Jimmy said, Dean could tell that they had been close. He wanted to know more about Rodger than just his name, but Jimmy didn't seem to want to talk about it, and probably wouldn't any time soon. Dean settled for sitting next to him and rubbing his back, occasionally kissing him, and eventually wrapping him in his arms. It was out of their hands now, he would try to tell him to make him feel better. They didn't have to deal with it anymore. The police would find the killer. No need to worry about it now. Jimmy responded with a sniffle and Dean handed him a box of tissues. Jimmy used about half the box in one go, tossing them on the floor like only a true lazy person would do. Dean strangely didn't mind it. He understood that Jimmy was upset, and stayed with him instead of leaving to clean the tissues away.  
Dean made dinner that night for Jimmy and himself, using that as an excuse to clean up a bit. He brought Jimmy a bowl of soup and let him eat at the coffee table, though he was usually very against that, and even convinced himself to sit down next to Jimmy and eat there as well. Dean cleaned up the dishes after Jimmy had finished, getting himself a beer and offering one to Jimmy. He accepted greatfully, downing half the drink in one go. Dean nearly objected, but decided to simply keep his mouth shut. He understood that his friend was in pain. His mind returned again to the whole "friend of lover" issue, but right now didn't seem to be the best time. He shrugged it off and decided to save it for some other time. Jimmy seemed to have too much emotion to deal with at the moment without throwing relationship problems into the mix.  
Dean and Jimmy slept in diffrent rooms that night, which honestly worried Dean a lot. He knew that sometimes when people were as upset as him, and blaming himself as he was, they could do very... irrational things. Dean hardly slept that night for fear of Jimmy hurting himself, or worse, but in the morning when he poked his head in, Jimmy was sound asleep and from looking at him, he didn't seem to have harmed himself in any way. Dean breathed a sigh of relief, heading off to make breakfast even though it was likely that Jimmy wouldn't wake up for a few more hours. When he finally did get out of bed, he walked into the kitchen with a bit of a clumsy wobble in his steps, nearly falling. Dean was luckily close enough to help him up, but it sparked new doubts of Jimmy's safety. As Jimmy more or less passed out on a nearby chair, Dean checked him over for injuries, but didn't find any. He rolled his eyes and sat next to Jimmy, stroking his hair gently as he came to. Dean immediatly demanded to know what was wrong, but Jimmy simply responded by muttering "not so loud" and covered his eyes from the light from the bay window. Dean sighed and went to check how much beer was left. Jimmy had drank almost the entire six-pack. He gently slapped him over the head, making him groan, but Dean assured him that a hangover wasn't deadly. He tossed a pill bottle to him, getting him a glass of water and letting him take a few of the painkillers before sending him to go and lay on the couch, closing the blinds and turning off any of the lights he had turned on. Because of the grey sky outside, it was about the amount of light availabe during the begining of a sunrise even though it was almost nine in the morning. After Jimmy woke up from an hour-long nap, Dean asked him if he wanted any food. He responded with a gag and rolled over to face the back of the couch, nuzzling his face in between the cushions and trying to ignore the sound of Dean whistling as he decided to get him food anyway. He sat it down on the table and left to straighten up Jimmy's room. Surprisingly, the plate was empty when he came back and Jimmy was sitting up, though he had his head covered with the blanket. Dean was silently pleased and took his plate into the kitchen, washing it and putting it away. He came back in, sitting down next to Jimmy and wrapping an arm around him. Jimmy burried his head in Dean's chest, clinging to him like a baby possum. Dean gently rubbed his back, and eventually Jimmy fell back asleep, Dean drifting off leaning back on the couch. When Jimmy woke up, though, he made it known, pinching Dean's arms until he woke up as well. Dean wasn't pleased, but hesitating in yelling, epecially when he looked down and saw Jimmy smiling up at him. Apparently Jimmy wanted to talk, and Dean agreed, rubbing sleep out of his eyes. He would have reprimanded him for drinking so much, but he wasn't really angry about it. He had more. A lot more.  
Jimmy wanted to talk about their relationship, and Dean kind of considered getting a beer for himself.  
"Well," he muttered to Jimmy, "go ahead, say what you will."  
Jimmy nodded. "Well, Dean, I just want to know what I am to you. I mean, I'm still married, maybe pretend I wasn't. Ideally, what do you want me to be?"  
Dean took a moment and thought. "I don't know, Jimmy, that's a hard question. I hesitate to say that I love you, but I know for certain that I want you to stay with me. I wouldn't exactly think of you as my boyfriend, mostly because that word makes me a little uncomfortable, but I also wouldn't consider us fuckbuddies or anything like that. I mean, we're friends, but not just friends. But also not friend with benefits. Jesus, Jimmy, I don't know." He took a moment to sort out his thoughts, covering his face with his hands and breathing hard and heavy for a moment. He sat up after a moment, smoothing his hair down. "Jimmy, I've never been very... open with my sexuality. My dad was always really against it and he kind of controlled my life in a way, so I just got used to hiding it. Because of that, I'm just kind of uncomfortable with the whole idea. I mean, I care about you and I want you to say with me, don't get me wrong on that. It's just that I'm not so sure about what kind of relationship I want to have with you."  
Jimmy nodded, kissing Dean's cheek and wrapping his arms around him. "That's fine, honey. I understand, believe it or not, and I'm here for you if you want to talk about it, but we don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable." Dean smiled and nuzzled his hair, sniffling a little. Jimmy offered to make them some more hot chocolate and Dean agreed happily, letting him up and using it as an opportunity to gather his thoughts a little better about the whole relationship thing. Eventually, he kind of decided, though it made him nervous, that he wanted Jimmy to be his boyfriend. When Jimmy returned with their drinks, Dean told him so as casually as he could, and Jimmy was quite obviously overjoyed by the news, trying to hide his awkwardly wide smile by taking a long drink of his cocoa. Dean also found himself smiling uncontrollably and kissed Jimmy's cheek gently, both of them laughing softly. Part of Dean was disgusted by how cutesy and lovey dovey they were acting, but it was something that neither of them had ever had before with someone else, so Dean let it go how seriously gross it was that they were nuzzling into each other and drinking hot chocolate together. No, reader, no one is trying to drive home the point of the title, you must be imagining things.  
Dean decided that the murder investigation could just rest for the day. The police were on it now and Jimmy was home from the hospital, so there was no immediate worry. Dean kept a gun and would protect them if they were in any danger, so he wasn't terribly concerned about his or Jimmy's safety. They slept in the same bed again that night, Jimmy teasing Dean for a while by saying "boyfriend" at the end of almost every sentance. "I love you, boyfriend," "Goodnight, boyfriend." Dean nearly went insane, but it was more or less fine by him, especially as Jimmy started getting a bit more physical in his teasing. He smiled and gently ran a hand over Dean's crotch, illiciting a soft moan from him. He slipped a hand into his boxers with a soft chuckle, wrapping his fingers around Dean's member and stroking slowly, getting faster and faster until he was moaning and writhing under him, releasing into his hand embarassingly quickly. He offered to return the favor, but Jimmy assured him that he was fine, wrapping his arms around him and soon falling asleep with his head on his chest.  
The next morning when Dean got up, Jimmy was nowhere to be seen. He eventually found him in the living room, sitting in front of the television and watching intently. Dean came over behind him, rubbing his shoulders a bit and glancing up at what he was watching. Apparently it was a local news station, announcing the arrest of a man named Alastair, the man Dean had found hacking into the databases where Jimmy had worked. Jimmy didn't seem to be reacting much to the news, but Dean smiled to himself. "See," he remarked softly, "it's all over now. He's gone. The police have got him and he's going to get the death penalty, I assure you of that." Jimmy sighed and nodded.  
Later that day, Jimmy got sick. Both he and Dean decided to blame it on Jimmy having been so nervous lately over the murder, but no matter the cause, he was definatly sick. Dean made him soup, which he greatfully ate between trips to the bathroom. Despite him feeling disgusted with himself, Dean was more than happy to cuddle him anyway, and they spent most of the day lounging on Dean's bed, Jimmy wrapped in his lover's arms whilst he groaned and complained. Dean found it strangely adorable. Jimmy was beyond embarassed.  
Jimmy slept early that night, giving Dean ample free time before he actually decided to go to sleep. He got up carefully, warry of waking Jimmy up, and headed into the living room, pulling out his computer and starting to search for more information about Alastair's arrest. None was available, though, at this point. All that was known was that he had killed someone and was suspected of framing others for over ten other murders in the area, and that he was going to have a hearing in a few weeks where his fate would be decided. Dean gave up on that and sat down on the couch to browse the internet for a while, making himself coffee at some point and sitting back down to try to pull and all-nighter. Eventually, he looked over to the clock and flinched a little at how late it had gotten in what had felt like such a short amount of time. He sighed and sat asside his computer, going to crawl back into bed with Jimmy, curling up next to him pathetically, his head starting to hurt from the caffine and lack of sleep. Jimmy woke up only a few hours later, grumbling into Dean's back as he shoved his nose against his shoulder, Dean jumping a bit at the sudden prodding. He turned around with a smile, wrapping his arms around Jimmy and kissing the top of his head, pulling the duvet up over both of them as they lay with their noses pressing together, wrapping around each other contentedly. After a while, Jimmy hesitantly suggested that they get up, but Dean grumbled and argued it silently by wrapping his arms around Jimmy's back even tighter. Jimmy laughed softly, purring a little, and started to struggle away from Dean, Dean chuckling at his gentle squirms of protest. Eventually, Dean let go and they both got up, Dean going to put on the coffee pot as Jimmy headed off to brush his teeth. Dean joined him even though Jimmy was self concious about people watching him do this (Dean had no idea why, but it is what is it. Or was. Tenses.), but he honestly didn't mind this time for some reason as Dean also took up a toothbrush and went to work. They stood there together in awkward silence as they brushed, Jimmy starting to laugh at some point as Dean formed a foam around his lips which somewhat resembled rabies. Dean spat and wiped his face, smacking Jimmy with the towel gently. Jimmy finished up as Dean went to start making breakfast, coming to join him after a moment longer, Dean teasing him as he entered the kitchen.  
"You have to take a leak or something?" he chided, and Jimmy came up behind him, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist.  
"Yes, I did. Sorry I'm a human being."  
Dean gasped in pretend shock. "Oh, god, how rude you are!" he exclaimed, clasping a hand to his chest. "I cannot believe you, Jimmy. You are just awful~" Jimmy purred, snatching a piece of sausage from over Dean's shoulder, reaching right into the pan to get it. Dean huffed as Jimmy complained how hot it was, shaking his hand to cool the burn on his fingers. Dean kissed his cheek, but offered no sympathy at all. Not that Jimmy expected any, since he was being stupid in the first place. Dean got the food onto plates and handed one to Jimmy, sitting down with him to eat. Only a few moments after Jimmy sat down, the phone started to ring, so he went over to pick it up. He stood there mostly in silence, listening and occasionally muttering "yeah" softly, sounding like it was more to himself than to whoever was on the other end. Jimmy sighed softly and came back to the couch after a moment, sitting down heavily, holding his head in his hands. "Damn it," he muttered softly.  
Dean looked over in concern. "Who was that?" he asked quietly, rubbing the grease off of his hands and onto his trousers. Jimmy simply shook his hand and Dean wrapped an arm around his shoulders, pulling him in a little and kissing his cheek. "Jimmy, honey, what's wrong? Who was that on the phone?"  
Jimmy sighed and looked up, still not looking at Dean, but at least raising his head. "It was Amelia. She says that tomorrow we're going in to civil court to finalise the divorce and see who gets custody of Claire."  
Dean sighed as well and butted his head against Jimmy's shoulder gently. "Honey, I know it's awful... I'm so sorry that this is happening, but you know I'm here for you. Do you think that you might get visiting hours with Claire?" He nodded, but didn't seem very happy about the idea.  
"She's taking my daughter, Dean. She's taking my daughter, probably taking the house, the car, the... everything. Dean, she's taking everything!" He started to hyperventillate quietly and Dean sighed, rubbing his back gently to try to calm him down. Jimmy ended up crying into his hands, falling down onto his side and laying on the couch more or less curled into a pathetic ball of anxiety. Kind of like me! Dean sighed and leaned over to kiss Jimmy's cheek gently, rubbing his back until he had calmed down enough to stop crying and sit up. Dean wrapped him in a blanket and held him close, fluffing a pillow and putting it down for Jimmy to lay his head on. He lay him back down and Jimmy took a short nap, waking up to see Dean lounging against the back of the couch, reading. Jimmy tried not to laugh at what book was in Dean's hands. It seemed to be some kind of stupid, cheesy romance novel, the type with the picture of a couple bathed in sunlight on the front cover. Jimmy made a fake retching noise. "Dean, put that down," he snapped jokingly. "You know what that is, Dean. It's evil. It'll burn your brain out slowly." Dean smiled and chuckled as he read, glad that Jimmy was feeling at least a little bit better now. They sat there together for a while, Dean reading still and Jimmy reading over his shoulder, laughing the whole time at the steryotypical cheesy romance novel disgustingness. After a few hours, they went to bed together, Dean trying to keep Jimmy's mind off of the divorce court the next day by kissing him and hugging him and discussing the stupid plot of the book he was reading. Jimmy was conent for the mostpart before Dean drifted off to sleep and he was left there alone with his own thoughts, left to worry and fret and maybe drive himself into a panic attack that made him vomit but Dean really didn't need to know about that. Eventually, he finally fell asleep, luckily not dreaming.  
After what felt like only five minutes, Jimmy was awoken by the blaring roar of an alarm clock, bringing the heel of his hand down had on the top of it a few times unsuccesfully before he finally hit the snooze button, rubbing his eyes and sitting up. Dean was apparently already awake, going about getting dressed once Jimmy finally managed to open his eyes, cringing at the light in the room. Dean looked over with a smile as he pulled on a blazer. "Good morning, Jimmy," he said both cheerily and gently, not knowing how Jimmy would really be feeling about this all this morning. Jimmy simply shrugged and got up to go shower. He came back out wrapped in a towel, Dean having gone off to make them breakfast. Jimmy shrugged, locating his suit and pulling it on quickly, fumbling a bit with his tie but eventually getting it on correctly. As soon as he was decent, he went into the kitchen to find Dean, smiling at him a little as he sat down with the plate Dean had handed to him. He dug into his food happily, trying to hide his nervousness. He ate every scrap of food on his plate despite his guts making a loud groan of protest. Probably just nervous. Who cares, Jimmy thought to himself, wiping his hands off on a towel. "What time are we leaving?" he aked, Dean standing at the sink scrubbing dishes. Dean responded with a simple shrug. "Whenever you want to, I guess. Your court date, not mine." Jimmy bristled a little bit at that, but shrugged it off easily. "Okay, wow, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning." Dean didn't respond to that, placing plates and dishes and glasses back into the cupboards they belonged in, surveying everything to make sure it was in proper order in the cabinets and fridge, then went to slip on a pair of dress shoes. Jimmy followed his lead, silently taking note of how Dean was a sharp dresser when he was so inclined. The two of them got into Jimmy's car and they drove to civil court or wherever this stuff takes place. I know you go to court for divorce, but what happens? It's one of life's greatest mysteries. Author don't know.  
Dean had to drive the two of them home after the hearing, Jimmy saying that his head was spinning too much to see straight. The two sat in silence, both of them in a bit of a state of shock, especially Jimmy. He and Amelia's divorce went through alright, and they were legally no longer married. Amelia more or less took custody of Claire, but she had visting hours with Jimmy every Wednesday and over the weekends. He was rather pleased with that after having expeting her to be completely in Amelia's care and never being able to see her again, so if this is what he had to settle with instead of losing his daughter forever, he was fine with it. Still, he couldn't help but be left reeling at this. Of all the awful things he could have pictured befalling him and his family, this was more or less the one thing that never, ever, not in a million years would have crossed his mind. Stupid, stupid little Jimmy, thinking that he and his wife would live happily ever after. Sounds like someone's trying to make word count for the day, he thought to himself quietly. A voice from the cosmos shushed him.  
As Dean pulled into the driveway of his house, he eyed Jimmy with quiet curiousity and worry. "Hey, buddy... Are you gonna be okay?"  
Jimmy laughed a bit bitterly. "No, probably not, Dean. I'll get better." He got out of the car and went inside before Dean could question him further, Dean coming in after him and locking up the door. Jimmy sat down heavily on the couch with a sigh, though he got back up after a few moments and went into the kitchen to get himself something to eat, not caring about getting crumbs all over his dressy clothes. Dean would have laughed at the sight had Jimmy not looked ten seconds from putting a bullet in his brain. After Jimmy was done stuffing his face, he hastily and lazily dusted himself off, going to sit back down. Dean plopped down next to him and they spent a little under half an hour sitting with each other, Dean's arms around Jimmy and Jimmy's head on Dean's shoulder, no sound in the room other than a ticking clock, a buzzing ceiling fan and the two of them breathing. After a while, though, Dean had to excuse himself to the bathroom, Jimmy using this as an excuse to get a bottle of beer from the fridge. He was halfway done by the time Dean came back, which kind of worried Dean because really no one takes that long to piss. He nearly snatched the bottle from Jimmy's hand, but decided against it, understanding him wanting a drink. He clicked on the television and found some show on the History channel about... well, Dean honestly didn't care enough to remember what it was about, but probably something super boring so who cares, right? Sorry if you like boring History channel shows, though. To each their own. Jimmy, on the other hand, seemed strangely interrested in the program, which was great, Dean guessed. Dean ended up falling aleep with his head in Jimmy's lap. Jimmy didn't mind, and sat there stroking Dean's hair. The show that Dean had flipped it to was something about the Civil War, which Jimmy found fascinating because of his nerdy history obsession. Jimmy was a boring man.  
As soon as the show's last episode of the night ended, Jimmy flipped the television off and curled up next to Dean on the couch, the two of them laying a bit awkwardly together. Dean was leaned back against the arm rest, his legs spred and Jimmy laying between his legs almost completely on top of him. Had Dean not been totally dead to the world, he might have been a bit uncomfortable with this, but much to Jimmy's surprise, Dean could sleep like a champ when he wanted to. Jimmy had no complaints and made himself comfortable until morning. Dean, unsurprisingly, woke before Jimmy. He had a few objections to their sleeping positions, first and foremost being the awe inspiring cramp in his legs and back. Next on the list was probably that Jimmy was heavy. Not like he was 300 pounds or anything, but shit if having a grown man laying on your rib cage didn't limit your oxygen intake a little. And also it kind of hurt. Another problem (well, kind of problem) was that Jimmy's knee had wedged itself neatly between Dean's legs and was now rubbing at his crotch as Dean fought the pain of circulation reaquainting with his feet and the pinching nerves in the rest of him. Great thing that blood flow to his crotch hadn't suffered any, though. Tight dress pants made tighter, Jesus wake me from this nightmare. He ended up having to shove Jimmy off of him as it became clear that he wouldn't wake of his own volition for at least long enough for Dean's cock to spring a leak and for him to more or less bleed to death. The amount of time for death by penis aneurysm, by Dean's estimate, was probably at the most two and a half hours, and he sure as hell was not waiting around that long. Jimmy woke at being shoved, snorting and snuffling as he regained conciousness. Dean limped off to the bathroom to relieve himself, Jimmy shrugging and laying back down to fall asleep again. When Dean returned to see the still sleeping form of his friend... boyfriend... whatever he was, he decided to go and make breakfast. Tomorrow was a Wednesday, so Claire would be coming over to stay. Dean decided to suggest later that he and Jimmy get anything inappropriate done before then, but had to wait about another hour, and by that time the eggs and bacon he had made were more or less a pile of cold, greasy disappointment. Jimmy happily ate it anyway, hardly having the energy to drag himself to the kitchen. Dean tried to help him as much as humanly possible while also trying not to baby him, but Jimmy was obviously in need of a lot of assistance. Nothing much happened the rest of the day, Jimmy spending it parked on the couch, Dean more or less waiting on him from sun up to sun down. The two slept in Dean's room that night, luckily with neither of them laying on the other this time. Jimmy seemed to want to instantly drift off to sleep, but Dean gently nuzzled into his neck every time he started to, smiling at the sniffles and groans he made each time he was woken back up. Eventually, Jimmy gave in and turned around to Dean, wrapping his arms around him and burrying his face in his chest, Dean purring and whispering a leud suggestion into his ear. Jimmy protested at first, but eventually managed to convince himself to give it a shot. Dean smiled and watched him slip down under the covers, felling his pants slide away, Jimmy's fingers wrapping around his lenghth, followed a moment later by his lips. His tongue flicked teasingly at the slit, making Dean's breath hitch for a moment, bringing up a hand to cover his mouth as he let out a rather shamefully loud moan. Jimmy had barely started to bob his head up and down, sucking at Dean's shaft, before Dean came with a soft shout, cumming hard down Jimmy's throat. Jimmy was a bit startled, having not expected it, but pulled back slowly and swallowed hard. His head popped out from under the covers and Dean fully expected him to head off to the bathroom to spit it out, his eyes widening a little as Jimmy instead nuzzled into him contentedly. "Oh, Jimmy, did you..?" He didn't need an answer to know that he had. Dean laughed.  
"So, Jimmy, how'd you like sucking cock for the first time, huh?"  
Jimmy shrugged a little. "It was nice, really. Didn't taste the way I expected. I'd always heard that cum was really salty and gross, but yours is fine in my opinion." Dean hardly hid the redness of his cheeks at that, laughing a little. Jimmy smiled, proud of himself, and decided that since they were getting it all out of their systems now... He bravely climbed on top of Dean, his cock fully erect and standing up, making a nice tend in his boxers. He slowly pulled them down to reveal himself to Dean, a smile crossing the other's face as he watched Jimmy's cock pop out and bounce a little. Jimmy started to slowly stroke himself, Dean's hands resting on Jimmy's hips and holding him in place over his own crotch. Jimmy continued to pump his cock until he began leaking a bit of precum, scooting up to smear it on Dean's face before offering his cock up to Dean. Dean took it into his mouth maybe a little too eagerly, moaning and purring around the head, lips closing and his tongue teasing at the slit and skin around it. Jimmy's hands found their way to Dean's head and he played with his hair gently, forcing a bit more of his length into Dean's mouth until he took the hint to start bobbing his head, hollwing his cheeks as he sucked hard. Jimmy came a bit embarassingly fast, but he attributed that to Dean being shockingly good at this. He pulled out as soon as he shot his load, Dean's eyes widening a little at first but he swallowed it down a few seconds later. Jimmy lay down next to Dean, wrapping his arms around him and resting his head on Dean's chest, the other man pulling blankets over the both of them. They layed there together in content silence for a moment, tangled up in each other with heavy breath and shaking legs, but eventually Dean finally decided to speak.  
"Thank you so much for that, Jimmy. You're amazing~"  
Jimmy couldn't help the goofy smile that came across his face. "Aw, you too, honey. I'm glad we both got to have fun tonight because nothing X rated tomorrow, remember." Dean might have rolled his eyes a little, but he assured Jimmy that he had definatly not forgotten. Jimmy looked up at him with an incredulous gaze. "You don't seem too thrilled to have Claire coming over, Dean. Don't tell me you don't like kids."  
Dean was silent for a long moment, but then shrugged. "I mean, kids are alright, I guess. I'm not a huge fan, especially of babies, but it's not that I don't like them. I just have no idea how to take care of a kid. I just don't have the fatherly instinct, I guess. Probably because my own father was a douche, but it dosen't matter. Claire's more than welcome here, but you'll have to look after her because I honestly don't see myself as being fit to do it."  
Jimmy nodded slowly. "I guess I can understand that, Dean. Don't worry, Claire's a sweet girl, so I'm sure she won't cause too much trouble. I'll be looking after her when need be, but she'll probably just sit in the spare bedroom all day on her computer."  
Dean raised an eyebrow at this. "Oh, so your child is as much of a computer addict as yourself, then?" Jimmy laughed at that, Dean smiling a bit and nuzzling into his hair. "Either way, I'm tired as hell and you seem to have had a really rough day, so how about we both get a little rest?" Jimmy agreed happily with that, closing his eyes and focusing on Dean's slow, steady breathing, the other man having drifted off not even five minutes after they'd both said good night. It took Jimmy longer, but he was more than happy to have Dean there with him, clinging to him the whole night through until they were both wrenched awake by Dean's alarm going off. Jesus Christ, who uses alarms who isn't a douche, Jimmy thought. Other than Dean. And the author.  
Dean got up and got a shower as Jimmy dozed, waiting for Dean to finish up. As close as they'd already become, being naked and wet with someone and both of you just standing there scrubbing your bodies and watching each other... It's just weird. Super weird. Dean seemed to understand, but did seem a little disappointed when Jimmy told him he'd rather wait. Still, Dean luckily didn't take very long and came back into the bedroom before Jimmy could even contemplate trying to fall back asleep, laying a damp towel over him to bring him back from the edge of sleep. Jimmy would have protested to him using this method, but instead just grumbled and pulled himself from bed to go and get in the shower himself. It seemed Dean had left a surprise for him in there in the form of a large splatter of cum on the wall of the shower. Jimmy rolled his eyes and painted the wall next to it, then rinsing it all away a moment after. He washed up quickly and got out to dry himself off, getting dressed quickly and rejoining Dean in the kitchen where he was, big shocker, busy making something for breakfast. The two of them sat around together for a bit, mostly just drinking coffee as they cuddled in the bay window, occasionally trying to converse but quickly becoming too caught up in the feel of the other's closeness and the warmth of skin contrasted with the chill of the frosted window at their backs. Around ten o'clock or so, the doorbell rang and Dean and Jimmy sprang appart, both flushing in embrassment. They somehow decided though a silent conversation that Jimmy would answer the door and Dean would stand just behind him, so that was the plan they acted on.  
As the door slid open, Amelia looked absolutely pissed from the second she saw her now ex husband. Jimmy tried to smile polietly but ended up more or less just gazing down at his feet, suddenly very interrested in the plush beige carpet. "Hi, Amelia," he managed after a moment. Amelia crossed her arms and gently nudged Claire towards Jimmy.  
"Honey, you be good," she said to her daughter quietly. "If your father gives you any trouble, you call me." Claire agreed with her mum but assured her that she wouldn't have any trouble here. Amelia shot one last bitter glance at Jimmy before saying goodbye to Claire and turning to leave, Claire pulling the door closed behind her as she entered. Jimmy looked about five seconds from some form of mental breakdown and probably would have tipped over had you breathed on him too violently, but he managed to compose himself well despite a feeling in him vaguely like how it might feel if your soul was ripped appart and lit on fire. He gently wrapped his arms around his daughter and kissed the top of his head, Claire pulling him into as tight a hug as she could manage.  
"I am so so so sorry about Mom. She's just been so angry for some reason, but I know that you're not going to hurt me, Daddy." Jimmy nodded, glad to hear that, resting his forehead against Claire's for a short moment before standing back up and smiling down at her, leading her inside. She looked over to Dean and smiled, Dean visibly cringing a little bit. Claire offered a friendly hello and held out a hand, introducing herself. Dean did the same nervously, Claire laughed a bit. "You're my dad's boyfriend, aren't you, Mister Winchester?" The amount of shock that put him in made him feel like death was drawing near and he honestly had to take a second to comprehend if he'd just heard that right or not. Judging by Jimmy's started shout of "Claire, what!?", he probably had. Claire giggled madly, announcing she was "only asking" and quickly scurried off to the spare room where Jimmy had already put her overnight bag. Jimmy's cheeks flushed bright pink as he looked over to Dean.  
"I am so sorry about that, Dean, I have no idea why she would ask that..." Dean had to take a few deep breaths and calm himself down. He was obviously seriously nervous and Claire's question hadn't helped matters any, but he seemed fine after a few seconds so Jimmy went off to talk to Claire alone about his and Dean's relationship. She deserved to know, after all, since she was going to be staying with the two of them three days out of the week.  
Jimmy knocked on the door to the spare bedroom, a bit nervous about Claire's opinion on the matter. She opened the door with a smile and Jimmy chuckled a little. "Hey, honey, mind if I come in and talk to you?" She agreed happily and Jimmy walked in, sitting down on the bed next to his daughter. His face flushed and he tried not to think aobut what he had done when this bed was his own, though he knew Dean he changed the sheets after that. He cleared his throat and took a deep breath. "Well, Claire, I want to talk to you about me and Dean." Claire simply nodded so Jimmy took that as a cue to continue. "Well, honey, I'm sure that you've... you've heard the word 'gay' before."  
Claire looked over. "Dad, of course I have. I'm thirteen and I'm not the same innocent little girl I used to be. I have the internet, after all." Jimmy thought he might faint. "Look, Dad," Claire continued, smiling a little, "I don't mind it if you're gay. I mean there's nothing wrong with it. One of my friends at school, Jainee, has two dads and they're both really awesome. I don't see anything wrong with being gay, so if that's what you're worried about, don't be."  
Jimmy was honestly a little confused at her understand what with how many gay jokes kids made these days acting like it was a horrible thing, but he was extremely relieved to hear this from her. He rubbed the back of his neck a bit nervously, but smiled.  
"Well, Claire, honey... Me and Dean aren't gay, exactly. I'm pansexual, which means-"  
"I know what it means, Dad, it's okay."  
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "Oh. Seriously, you do? I haven't met a lot of people who do, really." Claire shrugged again.  
"I think it makes pretty good sense, really. I mean, loving someone regardless of their gender seems like it's such a good thing in my opinion."  
Jimmy wrapped an arm around his daughter's shoulders. "God, you're really cool for being a teenager." She pretended to be offended but laughed all the same. Jimmy looked over. "So, I'll kind of assume you also know what being bisexual is?" She nodded. "Well," Jimmy continued, "Dean is bisexual. So I guess that technically neither of us are gay, but... Well, we are kind of... together." Claire couldn't help but laugh softly.  
"I assumed that you were," she boasted with a smile. Jimmy's cheeks flushed and he looked down at the floor a little. "Is it that obvious..?" Claire shrugged. "To me it kind of was. Like, as soon as I walked in I noticed Mister Winchester just kind of looking at you weird I guess. He seemed really nervous about meeting me so I would assume that he's probably not comfortable with kids or something. Anyway, but he seemed so nervous and he kept looking over at you, not in that silent "save me from her" kind of way but the "is this okay am I doing this right help me baby I love you" kind of way."  
Jimmy made some kind of incomprehensible choking sound and Claire cracked up. Jimmy's face went bright red and he rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "I guess that he does look at me that way, dosen't he..? He's so sweet, though..." He sighed softly and looked over at his daughter. "Honey, Dean is a little bit of a strange man, I want to warn you now. He's a little... well, he's very paranoid, and he also has OCD to some extent, so please don't think badly of him if he acts a little strangely." Claire smiled and said that she understood and was fine with it, which made Jimmy happy. He hugged his daughter and kissed the top of her head, thanking her for being so understanding and letting him talk to her. Before he got up to leave, though, he remembered something.  
"Claire, honey, what did you mean when you told me that you knew who the killer was?"  
Claire looked down at the floor, suddenly seeming anxious. "I just meant that I knew that someone in your office much have been doing stuff like that. See, my friend's dad works in your office too and he was found guilty of a murder even though he couldn't have committed it, and there have been so many other murders where the person found guilty just wouldn't have been able to do it. So I maybe mostly assumed that it was Alatair, just because he's so super creepy. Like, have you talked to that dude? He is just so freaking weird." Jimmy laughed and couldn't help but agree, as it was something he had also noticed.  
Jimmy congradulated Claire on being so wise for her age and assured her that here with him and Dean, she would be safe. He told her that he loved her and that he would see her later, then left to go and rejoin Dean.  
Dean smiled a bit hopefully as Jimmy came back into the living room, wrapping his arms around him as the other man sat down heavily next to him on the couch. Jimmy nuzzled into Dean's neck, wrapping his arms around him. "I am so, so glad I have you," he muttered into Dean's shirt sleeve, smiling a little at the smell of the other's cologne. Dean's face flushed rather noticably at that and he chuckled, nosing against Jimmy's hair and pulling him in close. The two sat there for a long while, simply holding each other in silence, glad to have someone to be close to. After about half an hour had passed, though, Claire came out of her room and stood in there doorway leading from the kitchen, watching them in silence for a moment before announcing her arrival by mentioning that she wa hungry. Both the men on the couch jumped about a foot in the air, springing away from each other in shock. Dean laughed loudly at Jimmy's shocked, embarassed expression, nearly doubling over with laughter. Jimmy sighed and composed himself after a moment, slugging Dean in the side of the head with a pillow from the couch, then turning to his daughter and offering to make her lunch. Dean chuckled as Jimmy and Claire went into the kitchen together, Dean trailing behind them with a smile on his face. He leaned in the arch doorway to the kitchen and watched as Jimmy made Claire a sandwich, then asking Dean if he wanted one too. Dean answered that he did and Jimmy went about making another, Dean purring and coming up behind him, rubbing his shoulders. "So I suppose you're the mother of the family, huh Jimmy?"  
Jimmy laughed softly. "What can I say, I have the maternal instincts, Dean. I have to take care of my babies." He turned around to kiss Dean's cheek, shoving the sandwich at him. Claire raised an eyebrow, laughed a little and told them to get a room before going back to eating without further comment. Jimmy chose to eat in the living room, Dean following him like the grumpy little puppy dog he was. The two sat there in silence mostly as Jimmy ate and Dean looked for something to watch on tv. Jimmy commented at some point that Dean had claimed once upon a time that he usually didn't watch as much tv as he had been. Dean told him to shut up and eat his damn sandwich.  
The rest of the day went somewhat as follows: Claire went back to her room and did god knows what on the computer while Dean and Jimmy cuddled on the couch, watching a movie. That's it, that's the day. Jimmy and Dean went to bed together that night, Dean teasing Jimmy all the while to see if he could get him turned on enough to break their promise that they wouldn't do anything sexual with Claire over. Dean kept at it a long time, doing everything he could, but Jimmy's resolve was strong and Dean eventually gave up, falling asleep with his disappointed cock throbbing. Jimmy was secretely very pleased with his latest victory over Dean, and went to sleep satisfied with himself.  
The next morning was garunteed to be a start to another beautiful day when Jimmy and Dean woke up pressed against each other closely, their crotches touching, both of them sporting impressivly hard morning wood. Dean purred and smiled happily at the other man, grinding his hips against Jimmy's and iliciting a soft moan. Dean suggested that the two of them help ecah other relieve their needs with a bit diffrent of a sexual act. Jimmy wasn't sure at first what Dean was getting at by clues alone, so Dean sighed and just came out with it. "Jimmy," he said softly. "I want us to do the sixty-nine position." Jimmy's face flushed and he chuckled softly.  
"Dean, I would love it if we did that," he said softly. Dean purred and pushed Jimmy over onto his back and climbed on top of him, his crotch in Jimmy's face, which somewhat embarassed him. He felt Jimmy slip down his boxers, Dean doing the same to the man under him and taking Jimmy's cock into his mouth. Jimmy let out a small moan before taking in Dean's cock, both of them starting to suck hard, teasing at the heads of each others' cocks. Jimmy finished embrassingly fast, moaning and whining around Dean's cock as he felt Dean drinking down his cum. Dean finished up only a moment after, Jimmy swallowing it down happily, though last time he had done this, Dean's cum had upset his stomach. Dean turned around to lay next to Jimmy, wrms wrapped around his chest. The two fo them lay there together in silence for a while before it was interrupted by Jimmy's stomach giving an unhappy burped embrassingly loud considering the silence of the room and Dean laughed softly, rubbing Jimmy's stomach and nuzzling his neck as Jimmy tried to hide his face in embarassment. Dean purred and started teasing Jimmy about him not feeling well, kissing at his collarbone to assure him that he didn't mind. Jimmy smiled, nuzzling Dean's hair for a moment before his eyes snapped open and he let out a groan, pushing Dean away and running off to the bathroom. Dean sat up and watched the door he'd gone in, worry pulsing through him, his blood nearly running cold as he heard Jimmy vomit violently. He rubbed the back of his neck, blaming himself even though he'd never heard of swallowing cum making someone vomit before. Jimmy came out of the bathroom after a long moment, face tinged green and hands holding his stomach. Dean got up and walked over to him, gently supporting him as he lead him back to the bed. Dean sat and rubbed Jimmy's back as the other man tried to explain to him how mortified he was about what'd just happened. Dean smiled at him and tried to assure him that it was fine, but Jimmy was obviously horribly embarassed about it. He got sick several more times, both he and Dean starting to assume that he had some sort of stomach virus after about the fifth time Jimmy had vomited. Jimmy spent most of the night either being sick or curled up in Dean's arms, eventually falling asleep with his head on his chest.  
By the time Jimmy woke up, Dean was gone from the bed and he figured that it was likely that Amelia had already come to get Claire that morning. Jimmy got up and staggered into the kitchen, standing in the doorway to the living room and watching Dean as he sat on the couch, doing something with his computer, leaning over it as if consentrating hard. He looked over to Jimmy after a moment, smiling and beckoning him over to sit behind him. Jimmy sat down and Dean wrapped an arm around his shouders, pulling him in and kissing his cheek. He asked Jimmy if he wanted him to make breakfast, and Jimmy agreed happily. Dean sat asside his computer, pausing whatever he had up, which seemed to be some kind of video game, though Jimmy didn't recognise it. He flipped on the TV as he waited for Dean to return, flipping through channels until he found some old horror movie, Alien, which he hadn't seen in at least a few years. Dean returned a while later with a few slices of toast which he had coated in a thin layer of lactose free butter, as well as a glass of soy milk. Jimmy accepted the food happily and started to eat, finishing up quickly and sitting the plates asside for someone to take into the kitchen later. Dean went back to his computer and Jimmy lay down on his side, curling up a little and drifting off to sleep, napping there with his head in Dean's lap for about half an hour, Dean having to balance his laptop on his knees to give Jimmy room. The sleeping man woke up with a soft mumble, butting his head against Dean's arm and wrapping his arms around it. He watched as Dean played the game on his computer, trying to figure out what he was trying to do. He seemed to be breaking blocks of stone with a pickaxe, but there was no explaination to why or what this was accomplishing. Eventually, Jimmy got bored and drifted off again for almost half an hour, waking up fully the next time. He sat up and focused his attention on the movie now, which hadn't gone off yet, luckily. The two sat there mostly in silence, though Dean occasionally commented on his game quietly, talking mostly to himself. As soon as Dean had gotten bored with his game, which was apparently called Minecraft, he sat asside his computer and looked over at Jimmy, smiling at the small amount of fear on the man's face. Though he had never found the movie particularly scary, he could imagine why Jimmy might. He sighed and started thinking about it then, how little he actually knew about the man sitting next to him even though they had more or less moved in together and had been fooling around. Dean had just never been good with talking about himself or his feelings and even though Jimmy seemed fine with it, Dean was still afraid to speak his mind around him. It almost felt likt there was a disconnect in their conversations because of that, because of Dean's inability to be completely real with someone the way that Jimmy was being with him. He supposed that his choices were either to get himself to get over it or to tell Jimmy the truth, but both of those ideas made him horribly nervous for some reason. He was afraid of hurting Jimmy in any way and didn't want to worry him by telling him this stuff, so he decided against dealing with it at the moment. Jimmy seemed preoccupied at the time, anyway, since he was still focusing on the end of the movie. As it ended, Jimmy sighed and lean into Dean, putting his head on the man's shoulder and wrapping his arms around him. Dean did the same and pulled Jimmy in, holding him close and kissing his forehead over and over, nuzzling his hair and smiling as Jimmy's cheeks turned bright pink. He purred softly and pecked at Dean's check before going over to the kitchen to get something to eat, though he seemed disapointed with what he found. He poked his head out of the arch doorway, leaning against the wall a little. "Dean, honey," he called, grabbing the man's attention. "Dean, we're a little bit low on food again."  
Dean couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Don't worry, Jimmy, I'll go on this shopping trip. I do need to get outside at least a little, right?" Jimmy seemed kind of nervous and asked if Dean was sure he didn't want Jimmy to go along with him, but Dean said that he was fine, and besides Jimmy had been doing all the heavy lifting around the house and it was about time for Dean to have a turn at it so Jimmy could have a chance to be lazy. He certainly wasn't about to argue with that, and he told Dean to go ahead and wished him luck on his way out of the house. Jimmy thought that he would just pick up a book and find something to read until Dean got back so he could help out with the groceries, but it seemed that something else was in store as an unimaginable sense of dread crept up on him for no reason only a few minutes after Dean had left. Dean wasn't here, he was gone, he had left and he was gone and Jimmy hadn't noticed how much he needed Dean around until the panic attack came, hitting him like a bus.  
Jimmy hardly noticed Dean coming back home, opening the door and calling for his help with the groceries, but Dean apparently stopped dead and rushed over to Jimmy where he had been lying curled up on the floor for the last hour or so once he had finally finished vomiting and hyperventillating. He was obviously still far beyond upset, tears leaking from his eyes as he sat there, Dean wrapping his arms around him firmly and pulling him in close, rubbing his back firmly. Jimmy burried his nose into Dean's chest, crying hard until after a while he finally calmed down a bit, sniffling and leaning his boyfriend for support. Dean kissed the top of his head over and over again, Jimmy eventually able to speak again, thanking him quietly before appologizing profusely for Dean having to see this. Dean tried to explain to Jimmy that he didn't mind and was just glad he was alright, but as Dean sat back a little, he noticed that Jimmy's arms had broken out in hives. Dean's eyes widened and he inspected his arms with worry, tilting Jimmy's head up to look him in the eye. He knew from his own experiaces that it was fully possible to break out in hives from anxiety and Jimmy had been through so much lately that he wouldn't have been surprised if that was exactly the problem that he was experiancing. Jimmy looked down at his arms as Dean drew attention to the red blotches, but Jimmy didn't seem very concerned with it, explaining that it had happened to him many times before. Dean gently rubbed Jimmy's shoulders, excusing himself to go and get the groceries out of the car, bringing them in as quickly as he possibly could before coming back over to Jimmy's offering him some water. Jimmy gladly took it and sipped it, trying to calm himself down, though he honestly already felt much better with Dean here. The two got up on the couch together, Dean's arm around Jimmy's shoulders. He kissed his cheek gently, rubbing his shoulder slowly with his thumb. "Jimmy," Dean started after a moment as gently as possible, "I think that we probably need to talk about this. Are you okay? What happened while I was gone?" Jimmy shook his head a bit, sighing and trying to find a way to explain it.  
"Dean," he muttered softly. "I'm not even sure what happened I was just got really scared for some reason because you weren't here and I didn't have you to cuddle me and kiss me or even just be here. I mean I'm happy to just sit next to you and for us to just be together, but with you not here, I just started freaking out. Though I'll have you know that the hives have been forming for a few days, so these didn't just pop up right now out of th blue. I've just been so stressed lately, Dean. Being away from you makes me so nervous and I'm sure that's probably unhealthy, but I just don't want to be away from you."  
Dean nodded and hugged Jimmy close, nosing into his hair. "It's alright," he muttered softly, "I'm sorry that I left, Jimmy. You can always come with me when I go somewhere, and I can go with you if you have to leave the house if you want me to. I undestand what it's like to be really stressed out, and it sucks balls. I'll do anything I can to help you, but... Well, I'm not so good with talking about me fellings, but please don't ever think that that means I don't care about how you feel. I just have problems with me talking about myself, but you're free to say whatever, whenever you like just so long as no one will overhear it if it's a personal matter." Jimmy nodded, glad to hear that, and nuzzled into Dean's neck gently, wrapping his arms around him. He stayed there for a long time, obviously still feeling terrible, and Dean could tell that he was trying hard not to cry. It took a while for Jimmy to compose himself again after that, but eventually he managed to slow the flow of tears, and sat back so Dean could look at him. Jimmy's eyes were sunken and hollow and bloodshot from crying, his face pale and the rings under his eyes looking especially dark. Dean sighed and stroked his cheek gently, the two sitting there a bit longer before Dean asked if Jimmy could help bring in the groceries. Jimmy agreed, of course, and went about helping him, even though his arms were shaking violently under the strain of the heavy bags. Once they had gotten everything put away in its proper place and Dean had organised it, he offered to make he and Jimmy something to eat. Jimmy simply shrugged, but Dean took that as a yes and started to cook. They had an actual dinner that night and sat at the dining table next to each other instead of sitting in front of the television. Jimmy picked at his food, but eventually bent under Dean's prodding and started to actually eat, finishing half the plate before announcing that he was full and getting up to take the plate into the kitchen. He came back and lay down on the couch with a tired thud, sighing loudly as he nuzzled into the pillow under his head. Dean smiled and went to place his own dish in the kitchen, coming back to spread a blanket over Jimmy, sitting down at the edge of the couch. Jimmy curled his feet in to make room for Dean and the two stayed there for a few more hours, Jimmy napping, before Dean decided that it was time to go to bed. He picked up the other man and carried him, still sound asleep, into their bedroom. He lay him down in the bed and covered him over, climbing in next to him and wrapping himself in the duvet, bringing it up to his chin to keep warm. He simply sat and watched Jimmy sleep for a while, smiling at how peaceful he looked. He wished that Jimmy could be calm and happy all of the time and that he didn't have to experiance this awful anxiety, but Dean knew that that was unrealistic. He wrapped his arms around the man, nuzzling into his hair and holding him close. He squeezed Jimmy as tight as he could without hurting him or waking him up, hoping that he would feel safer if he was in Dean's arms. Jimmy slept soundly and eventually Dean also drifted off, praying that tomorrow would be easier for the both of them.


	8. Chapter Seven

Jimmy woke up with Dean's arms still wrapped around him, though he had stopped holding him so tightly once he had fallen asleep. Jimmy turned around to face Dean, kissing his cheeks and forehead, nuzzling his neck and wrapping his arms around his neck. Dean woke at this, sniffling a little bit, but smiled as he saw JImmy. The two kissed, both laughing a little. They lay there for a while before Dean suggested that they get up. Jimmy nodded and got up to go into the kitchen to make breakfast, Dean having to go to the bathroom. By the time Dean came back, obviously just out of the shower if his dripping hair was any indication, JImmy had already finished making breakfast and had set it out on the table. Before they could sit down to eat, Dean come over and grabbed Jimmy's arm, checking his hives. They had more or less gone down completely, though his arms were still covered with large red blothy spots. Dean sighed, obviously still worried, though JImmy assured him that he would be fine. Dean shrugged and decided to believe him. He notice that Jimmy at least seemed to be felling better today, though the thought did occur to him that it was all too possible that JImmy was just hiding how he really felt so that Dean wouldn't worry. That thought upset Dean for some reason, but he didn't press the issue, the two of them eating in silence before Dean migrated to the couch and Jimmy anounced that he was going on a walk. Dean offered to come with him, but Jimmy said that he would honestly rather go alone. Dean worried at that, but he felt a little rediculous for doing so. He tried to tell himself that JImmy would be just fine, but the paranoid part of him still screamed that something terrible would happen if Dean let him go alone. In the end, though, Dean's more rational side won the argument and he decided to stop bugging Jimmy to let him come along. Jimmy thanked him, putting on his coat and slipping on his shoes before heading out. Dean sat there miserably for a little while, missing Jimmy already, but then turned on the TV and managed to distract himself as he waited for him to come back.  
Jimmy sighed, glad to get out and stretch his legs, breathing in the crisp, cold air and puffing out a plume of dragon smoke into the freezing weather. He smiled to himself and walked along quietly, delighting in the sound of icy snow crunching under the soles of his shoes. By the time he got to the park, he was already rather winded, not being used to walking so much for quite a while. He sat down at a bench to catch his breath, smiling as he saw a few tiny birds pecking at the snow nearby. He reached into his pocket and found a packet of crackers, crumbling them and tossing them. He was glad he still had some from the last time he had come to feed the birds, watching as they pecked up the crumbs hungrily. Jimmy watched them for a moment longer before gettting to his feet and starting back to the house. He unlocked the door and walked in, delighting at the wave of heat hitting his face as he stepped inside. He closed and locked the door behind him, Dean's face lighting up as he saw his boyfriend come back in. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his coat, hanging it up and coming over to Dean, sitting next to him and wrapping his arms around him, burrying his face in Dean's chest. Dean laughed softly, kissing the top of his head as Jimmy shivered a bit, the chill outside still lingering. The two sat there quietly, Jimmy warming up a little and going to make hot chocolate. He handed Dean his mug and sat down, laughing softly. "Feels like we do this every day," he commented, sipping at his drink quietly. Dean chuckled and agreed, drinking it rather quickly and setting the mug asside. He walked over to look out the window, leaning against it, the glass fogging a bit from his breath. He huffed softly as he eyed the driveway, covering the tires of Jimmy's car with snow. Dean turned to his boyfriend and smiled gently. "Hey, honey? Mind moving your car? I'm gonna shovel the driveway."  
Jimmy raised an eyebrow. "Woah, Dean, you actually want to get outside and go something? I'm surprised and very happy to hear this. I'll go move her, just give me a second." Jimmy slipped on his shoes again and ran out to the car, starting it up and backing it out, the tires sticking a little as he parked on the side of the street. He came back over to the porch as Dean walked out, going to the garage to get a snow shovel, starting in on the covering over the driveway. Jimmy raised an eyebrow and stood there watching him, and cold as he was without his coat on, he was happy to stand there and freeze, watching Dean proudly. "So, honey," Jimmy started, circling to the other side of the driveway, "what's this all about? Planning to go somewhere?" Dean shrugged and kept shoveling for a moment before actually answering.  
"I might," he muttered, grunting as he heaved a load of snow to the side of the area he had gotten it from. "I was just thinking, that looks bad, you know? The driveway being all covered in snow. Looks a lot better when it's shoveled, and I do still care about how my house looks, even if I'm not actually going anywhere." Jimmy smiled and ran inside to get his coat and a few blankets, spreading one out on the ground and sitting down on it, wrapping himself with the other. Luckily the blanket under him was thick enough not to let the cold or wet through, Jimmy sitting there wrapped up and warm, watching his boyfriend work. It took Dean a little under twenty minutes to finish the job,him and Jimmy heading back inside. Jimmy threw the wet blankets into the washer, chosing to use this as a reason to wash their clothes as well. Dean teased him about acting like a housewife, but he shut his mouth at the look Jimmy gave him. The two laughed it off, though, Dean letting Jimmy get back to his work. Jimmy cleaned the floor in the kitchen, bathroom and laundry room, using one of those Swiffer mops which apparently interrested Dean at some point, though they seemed to never have been used. Dean smiled and went about polishing the wood in the house, dusting, even making the bed. Jimmy seemed happy to have the help, even as Dean slipped on the kitchen floor, pulling both of them tumbling down. They lay there laughing for a moment, Dean kissing Jimmy before the two of them stood back up. Jimmy sat the mop asside and went to get the laundry out of the washer, putting them into the dryer and turning it on, checking for more that he could do as he waited for the clothes to be ready. He went into the kitchen and washed the dishes, scrubbing the counters and cleaning the inside of the microwave door. He sighed and looked around for something more to occupy him, but he realised after a moment that the house was almost spotlessly clean now. Dean came up behind Jimmy and wrapped his arms around his waist, nuzzling his neck and kissing him gently as Jimmy turned to him. The two stood there with their arms wrapped around each other for a while, both of them obviously tired from housework. They didn't do much for the rest of Thursday, Friday mostly being the two of them watching televison and movies together, curled up on the couch with one another. Jimmy suggested around six o'clock that the two of them go out to eat for dinner that night if Dean was comfortable with it. Dean seemed pretty nervous about it and tried to back down on the offer, but Jimmy managed to talk him into it, assuring him that everything would be fine and he would be safe. The two went to a small, private diner not far out of the neighborhood, driving there in Dean's old Impala. Dean was happy to finally have somewhere to take her again, happy to watch Jimmy guide her along the snowy streets. He pulled into a parking space at the diner, getting out with Dean and leading him in, holding his hand to help him feel less nervous. They sat down on the same side of the booth, Jimmy ending up ordering for both of them because he was too nervous to order for himself. The waitress brought their food over to them, setting down the trays on the table. Dean played with the red and white table cloth as they waited, looking up happily as he heard the waitress's heeled shoes clicking along the floor headed towards them. He smiled at the plate of food in front of him, happily picking up a fry and biting into it, purring at the taste of fried food after eating the great cooking he'd had at home. Jimmy also seemed to succumb to to temptation of shitty, greasy food, both of them eating their meals quickly, Jimmy leaning against Dean a bit as his boyfriend ordered a pie and they waited. The waitress brought out an apple pie for them to share and Dean forgot his anxiety almost completely as he dug his fork straight in, not even slicing some of the pie off. Jimmy laughed and stuck his fork in as well, Dean and Jimmy laughingly arguing over the food. The two men kissed each other whenever the people around them weren't looking their way, smiling and laughing and purring as they both eventually got each other blushing furiously. They paid and left after they finished the pie, getting up and heading back out to the car. Dean whispered into Jimmy's ear for him to drive around to the back of the diner and park, though Jimmy wasn't sure what he was planning until Dean switched off the car and leaned down to unzip Jimmy's fly. Jimmy was about to object before Dean pulled out his cock, licking at the head until he hardened, his face flushing furiously as Dean started to suck at the head of Jimmy's cock, bobbing his head up and down along his shaft. Jimmy's head tilted back and he let out a long, shaking breath. He purred and let his fingers snake through Dean's hair, gripping at him and forcing his head down a bit lower with each bob of his head, Dean gagging softly around his length. He moaned, sending vibrations through Jimmy, his tongue flicking at the slit of his boyfriend's cock, making him whine loudly. Jimmy slapped a hand over his mouth to quiet himself, groaning loudly behind his hand and thrusting into Dean's throat. He came hard inside of him, Dean massaging his balls and drinking down all of his lover's cum, smiling around him a bit. He sat up after Jimmy had finished up, licking his lips and tucking Jimmy's cock back in and zipping him up, kissing Jimmy's cheek and wrapping his arms around him for a moment before patting his knee and telling him to get going. Jimmy sat there in silent shock for a moment, glowing from his orgasm, before he was able to shake himself free of his thoughts and start the car again. He started home, Dean purring and smiling and laughing softly as he watched Jimmy nervously drive them home, seeming eager to get back with Dean and be able to hold him.  
As they pulled up in the driveway, Jimmy staggered out of the car with a heavy blush still on his face. Dean followed after him and came up to him to kiss him as they entered the house, laughing softly. Jimmy was obviously embrassased by cumming so early in the car, Dean hugging him for a long moment before patting his back and leading him to bed. Jimmy excused himself to use the restroom as Dean got the bedsheets straightened. Jimmy washed his hands and headed to the living room to lock up the front door, which Dean had somehow forgotten. He crossed back through the kitchen, making sure everything was in order before going back to the bedroom. He found it strange that the bread knife was out on the counter, but he shrugged it off and just put it back into the appropriate drawer. He came back to the bedroom, kissing Dean gently as he lay down next to him, wrapping his arms around him. Dean smiled and pulled Jimmy in as well, nuzzling into his hair. "You tired, baby?" he asked in a gentle tone, rubbing Jimmy's back slowly. Jimmy nodded into him, smiling. Dean yawned softly and the two of them drifted off to sleep not long after.  
Friday morning started with Dean having a loud coughing fit, jerking both him and Jimmy awake violently. Jimmy gave him a look of worry as he sat up to look at him, Dean curled up on his side, making loud choking and gasping noises, his breath coming in gasps and wheezes as he fought for breath. Jimmy rubbed his back, leaning over him in worry, but Dean waved him away. As soon as he composed himself, Dean sat up and rubbed his forehead, clearing his throat a few times and swallowing hard, trying to clear away the taste of blood from his raw throat. He took a few shakey, deep breaths, leaning on Jimmy a bit, his boyfriend asking him over and over if he was alright. Dean held up a hand to Jimmy, his body shaking a bit. "Honey," he croaked, "I'll be just fine. I get sick around this time every year with bronchitis, so it's seriously nothing much to worry about, okay?" Jimmy nodded and wrapped his arms around Dean, pulling the covers over him and kissing his cheek. "Honey, do you want me to take you to the doctor? This seems like it could be a serious problem." Dean purred a little, shaking his head. "Hey, don't worry, Jimmy, I'm fine. This happens to me all of the time, so I'm kind of just used to it at this point." Jimmy smile and rubbed Dean's back, kissing him gently on the forehead. He got up after a while to go make them some breakfast, bringing Dean's to his in bed. Dean insisted that he not because "people only get breakfast in bed if their legs don't work or if it's Mother's Day", but Jimmy wasn't having any of it and he took control of the situatjon, feeding Dean almost against his his will. Dean was silently happy about being shown so much love, but it was rather embarassing. At least the soup Jimmy made was good, but he was still humiliated at being treated like a child. As soon as they were both done eating, Jimmy took the dishes into the kitchen and soon returned, laying back down with Dean and cuddling him for a while longer, Dean eventually ending up falling asleep nestled in Jimmy's arms. By the time Jimmy woke up, Jimmy had also drifted off. Dean smiled and rolled over to push Jimmy down, his boyfriend snoring softly under him. Dean chuckled and kissed his cheek, playing with his hair until Jimmy woke up. He smiled at Dean and nuzzled against him, Dean blushing a little as he pulled away with a sniffle to remind Jimmy that he was sick still. Jimmy kissed his forehead and backed off a little, understanding that Dean didn't feel comfortable with it, but he personally was fine with sick, gross cuddles. More people should be. Gross cuddles are the best cuddles. Dean burried his face back in Jimmy's chest and Jimmy started to rub his back again, kissing the top of his head and holding him close. Dean fell back asleep not long after and Jimmy smiled, watching him sleep for a moment before reaching over to the nightstand and picking up a book he had been reading a few nights before when he was having trouble sleeping. He read while Dean slept, Dean pulling the book from his hands gently as he woke the next time. He put the bookmark into it, smiling gently as he closed it and put it asside, smiling up at Jimmy for a moment. By Dean's suggestion, the two of them got up out of bed and once again found their way to the couch, Dean coughing and wheezing once he got there and Jimmy rubbing his back in deep concern. Once Dean was done with his fit, Jimmy got up and headed to the kitchen, getting him a glass of ice water and bringing it back, instructing him to drink up. Dean huffed and said something along the lines of "gee, thanks, mom" under his breath, though he was silently greatful to his boyfriend for his concern. He sniffled and commented to Jimmy that his head was hurting, his boyfriend going off to get him a few paracetamol tablets. That's acetaminophen in American, or Tylenol in lay terms. Look at me, I'm a wealth of medical knowledge, aren't I reader?  
Dean took the pills Jimmy got for him, smiling greatfully, and lay down on his side to rest up a little more. Jimmy sat down at Dean's feet, pulling over a blanket and laying it over his boyfriend to keep him warm. Dean sniffled as he awoke, turning around to wrap his arms around Jimmy and snuggle into him, Jimmy smiling and wrapped his arms around Dean's back, still reading as he held the book behind Dean. He kissed the top of Dean's head as he once again fell asleep on top of him, Jimmy smiling to himself as he watched his poor sick boyfriend sleep. Dean woke up to eat dinner a little later and then headed off to bed after sittting with Jimmy and watching TV for a while. Jimmy came to bed with him even though he wasn't tired, sitting and reading his book for a few more hours as Dean slept soundly beside him. He eventually put his book away and curled up to Dean, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him in to a tight hug, kissing the back of his neck until he fell asleep next to him.  
The next morning when Dean woke up, he felt much better but still not exactly well. He looked around for Jimmy, but he didn't seem to be in the room. There was a small, quiet sound of talking from the living room, Dean assuming that it was just the television. He pulled himself out of bed and made his way to the kitchen, looking in the fridge for something to eat. He settled for some cereal since Jimmy had probably already eaten. After Dean had gotten his cereal and migrated to the couch, the television turned onto the news, Jimmy came into the living room from outside in the front yard. He was dressed in sweatpants, a sweatshirt and his coat, as well as tall black boots, but he still looked freezing when he came into the house. Dean looked up from his bowl and watched his boyfriend hang up his coat and kick off his boots, chewing softly as Jimmy walked over and sat down on the couch next to him, sniffling a little, his nose running a bit as his body readjusted to the temperature. At Dean's questioning gaze, he looked over and smiled. "I had to go and get the mail, then one of the neighbors wanted to talk to me. You know Anna, next door?" Dean gave him a blank look and Jimmy chuckled a little. "Well, your next door neighbor on the other side, obviously not where my old house was but over on the other side, yeah? Her name's Anna Milton and she's super nice. We used to be really good friends, especially in middle school, and she saw me outside and wanted to catch up with me since we haven't really talked in a long time." Dean nodded and went back to eating quietly, glancing up at whatever was on TV but not really paying attention. Jimmy kissed Dean's cheek as he sat there eating, getting up and going into the kitchen to get himself a glass of water. He came back to stand in the doorway, watching Dean for a moment and smiling as he sipped his water. He asked his boyfriend if he was feeling better, which he said he was, and Jimmy asked if he could get him anything. Dean thought for a moment and then shrugged, Jimmy taking that as meaning that he was fine. He went to make the bed as Dean finished up with his breakfast and sat his bowl down on the table. As Jimmy came back, he picked up the discarded dish and took it into the kitchen, washing it, drying it and putting it away before coming back over to sit down with Dean once again. Dean leaned over onto Jimmy and sniffled a little, Jimmy still warming up from his time out in the unforgiving weather, Dean providing a nice source of heat. Jimmy frowned a bit after a moment, putting a hand to his boyfriend's forehead and checking his temperature. He was burning up, though Dean claimed that Jimmy's hand were probably just cold. Jimmy inquired as to where the thermometer was, going to get it after Dean had told him, bringing it back and forcing it into Dean's mouth even though he protested that he was fine. The two sat there in silence as the digital thermometor worked, registering after a long moment and letting out a little beep. Jimmy pulled the the instrument out of his boyfrien'd mouth (that could be taken a few diffrent way, huh?) and held it out so he could read it. He turned the readout screen to Dean to display it to him. The number on show was 101 degrees. Dean smiled a bit nervously. "Well," he muttered softly, "I guess that I'm not quite as fine as I thought."  
Jimmy sighed and rolled his eyes, washing off the thermometer and resetting it, putting it back in the plastic case and setting it back in the medicine cabinet. He got a few more Tylenol pills and a glass of cold water for him. Dean took them greatfully, laying down after drinking the water and ending up drifting off for a little while.  
He was awoken almost an hour later by a loud knock at the door, sitting up and looking over to the door. Jimmy walked over, unlocking it and pulling it open. Amelia was on the other side, standing there on the doorstep with a smile on her face. Dean felt just as confused as Jimmy looked, his boyfriend standing there and talking quietly with his ex wife, Dean's head too stuffed up for him to hear their conversation. He threw off the blanket Jimmy had put over him as he slept, getting up and coming over to stand behind Jimmy. Amelia smiled at him and greated him, saying that she was there to ask Jimmy about them going to court together to try to change their custody times. Jimmy seemed against it and kept insisting that he wouldn't be agreeing, but eventually he asked Amelia to come inside to talk about it. She agreed, Jimmy closing the door behind her and locking it back. Amelia looked around a but, smiling over at Dean and commenting that he had a lovely house. Dean shuffled his feet, seeming a bit uncomfortable with the woman that he knew his boyfriend used to love. Jimmy picked up the blanket from the couch, folding it and putting it back into the linnen closet by the bathroom while Dean and Amelia held pleasent conversation in the living room. Suddenly, a crash and a shout drew his attention and he rushed back out into the kitchen. He froze as he saw Dean pinned under Amelia, shoved back against the counter as Amelia held a knife, prepaired to stab him. Dean strugged under her, pushing her arm back as she fought to bring the knife down into his chest. He managed to reach behind him on the counter and find another knife under his hand, plunging the blade deep into the woman's stomach. Amelia staggered back and fell against the opposite wall, blood pooling around her. Jimmy's heart raced and his blood ran cold, too afraid to move for a moment. Dean dropped the knife, looking down at the blood on his hands and then back up at Amelia, now lying dead across the room. He glanced over at Jimmy, hardly able to meet his eyes. "I... Jimmy, I killed her... She's dead. She's dead, Jimmy, I killed her!" Jimmy walked over quietly and put a hand on Dean's shoulder. "It was self defence," he reminded his boyfriend, rubbing his back. "We need to call the police, honey. We have to-"  
Dean cut him off, turning to him angrily. "I killed her Jimmy, we have to leave! I am not going to face the consequences for this! I killed her, Jimmy, I have to leave! I have to get out!" Before Jimmy could argue, Dean went about scrubbing the blood off of his hands, which would have honestly been the perfect time for Jimmy to call the police, but he would honestly have rathered follow Dean's plan. As soon as Dean had cleaned himself up as much as possible, he pushed Jimmy off towards their rooms, telling him to go and pack his bags. Dean pulled off his blood soaked shirt and tossed it asside, putting a clean one on and starting to prepair the things he would need. Jimmy was ready a bit before Dean, the two of them coming back with two bags each. By Dean's suggestion, they put their things into his car, Dean lifting up a false bottom of the trunk to show him the arsenal he kept in the trunk, a secret compartment packed full of weapons of all kinds, all looking beautifly well looked after. They put their bags on top of the false bottom, packing the trunk full and closing it. Dean got behind the wheel, caressing it in his hands for a moment and starting up the car, loving the purr of the engine running through him that he hadn't felt in much too long. Jimmy looked over to watch his boyfriend as he pulled out of the driveway, driving off fast down the street, almost suspiciously so. The two of them drove in silence, Jimmy in shock and Dean burning with secret, silent guilt for what he had just done. After a few hours of driving, Jimmy looked over at his boyfriend and reached to put his hand on Dean's knee gently, hoping to comfort him. "Honey," he mutted quietly, "you did what you had to, alright? Maybe blowing town isn't the smartest move, but you killed her for self defence, and that much is true." Dean took a loud, long breath in and let it outquietly. He steered the car with one hand for a moment, holding hands with Jimmy as he drove until Jimmy pulled away to turn and look behind them at the town they were leaving. Dean glanced at him before returning his eyes to the road before them, the front of the car devouring the asphalt as he pressed the peddal to the floorboard, the engine giving an agressive roar as they picked up speed. Jimmy frowned and looked over at him, Dean's eyes still locked on the horizon. "The sooner we get out of this state, the better. We're going as far as we can, Jimmy. We can't afford to go back there."  
Jimmy didn't offer a reply, leaning his head back against the seat behind him, his stomach churning in fear. "Dean, what about Claire? We can't just leave her. We could call the police from a phone booth in the next city we come to and report what happened."  
Dean shook his head, snapping at his boyfriend, "Jimmy, we are not calling the cops. Your daughter is a smart girl and I gaurentee that she'll figure out where to go and what to do without the police getting involved." Jimmy was ready to argue with him, but decided against it, falling back into silence for the better part of the next hour. Dean looked over to Jimmy as they drove through another town, pulling off the highway and slowing to a comfortable speed for a residential area. He nodded over at a diner as they passed, Jimmy nodding in responce and Dean pulling the car in to the parking lot. He parked and they went inside together, sitting down casually together at one of the booths and ordering something to eat. They ate in complete silence, occasionally looking over to the television hanging in the corner of the room, flipped to the news. They both kept a close watch to see if the murder had been discovered yet, but it seemed that they were safe for the time being. They were back on the road within twenty minutes, getting back on the highway and driving for a few more hours, getting to another town where they decided to stop for the night, about midnight by the time that they pulled into the motel. The two of them got a room together with a king sized bed, Jimmy laying down to try to sleep, though he wasn't sure he could with the sick feeling still in his stomach from what had happened earlier that day. His whole body shook as he vividly remembered the sight of his ex wife's body laying in the floor. Dean sat there beside him, reading a map to plan out the route they were going to take. Jimmy rolled over to watch him writting down in a notebook the towns they planned to stay in, Dean so lost in thought that he hardly noticed Jimmy move. After a while, he put away the notebook, the map folded up and stuck inside it. He lay down and wrapped his arms around Jimmy, hugging him close and kissing him. Jimmy drifted off not very long after that, comforted by Dean's closeness, buthe woke up only about half an hour later at the most, jerked awake by a nightmare in which the police were chasing them down the street and they were run off the road, the Impala flipping over and crashing into a ditch, Dean's neck snapping on impact. Jimmy had crawled out and the police had surrounded him, but that was the point at which he finally jerked awake. He sat up slowly, careful not to wake his sleeping boyfriend, and went into the bathroom to take a piss. He washed his hands and splashed his face with water to calm him down and wake him up a bit, patting his face with a towel. He came back to bed after a moment of watching himself in the mirror, laying back down slowly and pulling the duvet over himself, tucking it under his chin. He sniffled a little as he struggled to hold back tears, his body starting to shake again. He pressed his back against Dean's and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the ghastly white shape he saw sitting at the side of the bed. He halfway considered shaking Dean awake and asking him if he saw it too, but he was so used to being told by anyone and everyone that he was just seeing things because of his schizophrenia, so he assumed that was all it was. He pulled the duvet over his head and shrunk back into Dean, eventually turning to wrap his arm around his boyfriend's waist and burrying his face into his back. He eventually fell asleep, though he was still nervous and afraid of the thing he had seen, though when he glanced back just before drifting off, whatever it was had disappeared.  
Jimmy was awoken the next morning by Dean pulling away from him and getting to his feet, changing his clothes there in the middle of the room, boxers and all. Jimmy laughed softly and reached out to smack his boyfriend's ass, making him jump. The two of them looked at each other and Dean smiled, turning around to look at him, his cock in Jimmy's face. Jimmy unabashedly leaned forward and kissing his balls. Dean's face went bright pink and he hardened quickly, though Jimmy backed off after that, leaving Dean desperate. He lay down next to Jimmy and started to jerk himself off, smiling over him as his boyfriend sat watching. Dean came into his hand with a soft grunt, smiling contentedly and reaching over to get a tissue, cleaning his seed off of his hand before turning to Jimmy and pulling him into a gentle kiss. The two lay there for a moment, Dean then pulling away to pull on a pair of boxers and jeans, Jimmy smiling and getting up to dress himself as well. They stopped in a diner for breakfast and were back on the road shortly after. The two of them sat in silence for a while, Dean pulling onto the highway and taking them into the next state after a few hours of driving. They stopped for a while for lunch before they decided to stay for a while. They got a hotel room and sat around for a while, cuddling and trying to ignore that they were on the run from the police. This became somewhat difficult to ignore when they flipped it over to the news and the reporter was decribing the exact event they were tryingso hard to push out of their minds. The woman explained that the police were already searching for the murderer, whose fingerprints had been found at the scene. A picture was put up of Dean, the woman saying to contact the authorities if they saw him. Dean instantly switched off the television and got to his feet, packing up his things and instructing Jimmy to do the same, which he did quickly. The two raced out to the car, though they took care not to leave anything behind. Dean pulled out onto the highway once again and they hit the road, pedal down to the floorboard. Jimmy nervously picked at his gums as he did when he was anxious. He pulled back his hand after a moment and looked at it, his fingers smeared with blood. Dean looked over with concern, but he obviously wasn't hurt badly so he didn't make a fuss over it, instead focusing hard on driving. He pushed a casette into the radio after a while, classic rock music blasting through the speakers. Jimmy reacher over and turned the dial to lower the volume, Dean nearly protesting but choosing to let it slide this time, though usually he would scream at anyone who dared play with the volume to the stereo. They sat there listening to the songs that came on, but Jimmy still somehow managed to drift off to sleep after a while, leaning against the window. Dean drove on, occasionally looking over to his boyfriend in concern, silently hoping for him to wake up soon. After a moment, a particularly loud song came on and jerked Jimmy awake, him sitting up and sniffling a little in confusion, rubbing his eyes and looking around for a moment. "Where are we, Dean?" he asked quietly, obviously tired.  
Dean smiled a little. "Just about halfway through Oklahoma, sweetheart." He turned down the volume of the song and patted Jimmy's knee, telling him to go back to sleep. Jimmy shook his head, sitting up and pulling out the notebook Dean had sitting on the dashboard of the car, the one that he had been writing in last night. He pulled out the map and unfolded it, finding the state marked with the abreviation OK. "Have we been going south this whole time?" he asked, Dean laughing softly. "I don't know how we would have ended up in the state south of Kansas otherwise, Jimmy." Jimmy blushed a little, realising that it was pretty obvious. "Sorry, Dean, I just thought that we were going to the east."  
Dean shrugged. "We're heading east right now, actually. Our next stop is Arkansas, then to Mississippi, then Tennessee. We're taking a little road trip across America, and I swear to you we aren't going to get caught by the police, I swear it on my life." Jimmy fell silent at that, but nodded. After a moment, Jimmy told his boyfriend to find a place to pull over. Though immediatly, he insisted that they had to keep going, he eventually decided to do as he was told, pulling into an old abandoned roadside diner, parking behind the building. He looked over at his boyfriend for a moment, about to ask him what his intentions were, but he was cut off as Jimmy climbed on top of him, pushing him back in the seat and kissing him, straddling him and grinding against him. Dean's eyes widened, but he was more than pleasently surprised, pushing his seat down to a reclined position and instructing Jimmy to get out the bottle of lube that he had in the glovebox. Jimmy got it out and by the time he had turned back around, Dean was face down on the laid back seat, his pants pulled down and his ass sticking up, ready for him. Jimmy stroked Dean's ass gently for a moment, admiring his lover's features. He asked Dean if he wanted him to use a condom, to which he simply responded for him to hurry the fuck up and get inside. Jimmy's face flushed at Dean being so bossy and he started lubing up his fingers, slowly slipping one into him. Dean moaned softly, thrusting his hips back against him as Jimmy added a second digit, scissoring Dean gently for a moment before adding a third. Once Dean had loosened up, Jimmy poured the cool , slick liquid over his cock and spread it up and down his length for a moment before pushing the head at Dean's entrance. He slipped in with no problem, Dean letting out a shuttering moan as his muscles clenched a bit around his boyfriend's length. Jimmy gave Dean a moment to adjust to his size before slowly thrusting in. He rubbed the lube off of his hands so he could get a good, firm grip on Dean's hips. He smiled, setting up a slow and steady rhythm, pushing deep into him and rocking him forward and back, Dean clenching his fists on the seat under him. Jimmy threw his head back a bit and picked up the speed, making Dean whine and shutter beneath him,both of them moaning quietly. Dean gasped as Jimmy eventually found his prostate, brushing against it and making Dean cry out softly. He reached around to stroke his lover's cock, a drop of pre cum at his slit which Jimmy teasingly ran a thumb over, spreading the slick liquid out over the head. He smiled at the desperate choking sound Dean let out, stroking his shaft as he started to pound into him hard and fast. Dean held onto the seat until his knuckles turned white, groaning and grunting into the leather, trying not to make any overtly shameful noises. Jimmy leaned over him for more leverage and the feeling of his cock forced even deeper into Dean's ass tipped him over the edge. Jimmy shot his load hard into his lover, letting out a soft shout as he climaxed. Dean bucked his hips into Jimmy's hand as he started to once again play with the head of his cock, still thrusting purpousfully at his prostate. Dean came after only a few more seconds, releasing with a whine, his seed spurting over the black leather seat and covering Jimmy's fingers. He smiled and pulled his hand up, removing his cock, and licked his fingers happily, pleased with himself as Dean lay there in bliss from his orgasm. He hopped back over to the passenger seat and made himself decent, watching as Dean cleaned up the fluids on the seat and made some attempt to pull his clothes back on, though he looked exactly as one would expect someone who just got fucked in the car to look like. Jimmy chuckled and smoothed down Dean's hair, which he might have had his fingers in the whole time they were making love, pulling it into a wild array of diffrent angles which somehow perfectly conveyed the act that had gotten it to that state. Dean drove on after that, the two of them smiling and glancing over at each other every now and again in a way of expressing that they would rather have after sex cuddles instead of being trapped in the car with the gearshift seperating them. Dean shifted uncomfortably a few times and complained about being sore, which Jimmy found cute, but he got a bit more angry as time went on because of his boyfriend's seed sitting in his stomach and making his guts cramp up. A few times, he put a hand to his lower stomach and took a deep breath, occasionally grimacing or shaking his head, but Jimmy didn't think much of it until Dean groaned and made a comment that he needed to use the bathroom, his stomach giving an accompanying goan of discomfort. Jimmy smiled in glee as he realised that it was his own doing, and reminded Dean that he had been the one who insisted Jimmy not wear a condom even though both of them knew that his stomach was easily upset by his lover's cum. Dean told him to shut the fuck up, pulling into a gas station and parking outside. As Dean dashed off to the bathroom as casually as possible, Jimmy got out to mill around the store, getting himself a snack and a drink, paying, and going back to wait in the car. Once Dean returned, Jimmy debated whether or not to tease him but was preempted by Dean glaring at him and growling that he'd better not say a single word if he knew what was good for him. Jimmy held up his hands innocently and Dean turned the key, driving them to a motel nearby and getting them a room. Jimmy chuckled and followed Dean up, though the second they got inside, his boyfriend once again had to dash to the restroom. Jimmy sighed, shaking his head with a smile on his face, going to sit down on the side of the bed and wait. Dean came back not long after, face flushed in embarassment, one hand rubbing his stomach. He lay down next to Jimmy, who then smiled and scooted down in the bed with him, wrapping his arms around him lovingly and holding him close. Jimmy nuzzled Dean's neck and kissed behind his ears, making him blush even further. Jimmy took it upon himself to take over rubbing his boyfriend's stomach, and he honestly seemed greatful for it as he was hit with another wave of cramps. Jimmy purred and nipped at his neck gently, reminding him once again that he was the one who chose that they not use a condom, which Dean simply responded to with a grunt before pulling himself up from the bed and stalking off to the restroom once more. This time he was done for good, coming back and laying back down with Jimmy, taking a nap while Jimmy checked his phone. Once he woke up, he insisted that they hit the road again, Jimmy offering no resistance and following him out to the Impala. He got into the passenger side, Dean getting behind the wheel and starting the car, the two of them smiling at the smell of sex still heavy on the upholstrey. Dean pulled out of the parking lot and they were quickly back on the highway, speeding off towards a new town. WIthin the rest of the day, driving almost nonstop, they had finally made into Fayetteville, Arkansas. Dean pulled into another motel, almost as run down as the last they had stopped at, and got them a room. They headed up and got into bed together, both of them falling asleep rather quickly, exhausted from being on the road so long, and the amazing sex earlier that day. Dean lay behind Jimmy with his arms tightly around him, snoring softly because of his stuffy nose. This kept Jimmy awake for a bit and he considered pinching Dean's nose shut to make him wake up and stop, but eventually he managed to drift off in spite of the lawnmower sounds his boyfriend was making.


	9. Chapter Eight

Morning came for both Dean and Jimmy around ten in the morning, Jimmy's phone ringing loudly and jerking them both awake. He stumbled out of bed and grabbed it from where ever he had thrown his jeans when he had taken them off, retrieving the cell from his pocket and answering the call, holding it to his ear without saying anything. The number was one he didn't recognize, but the voice on the other end definatly was. Claire.  
"Dad," she started mater of factly, her voice serious and stern and even intemidating despite her young age, "I need you to listen to me. I know what happened. I know why mom was there, I know what she was trying to do and I know why Mister Winchester killed her. She was the one who got Allistair to kill those people. She wanted you in jail, Dad. She wanted you on death row. I don't know why, but I know that she was the one behind it. I found her checkbook and it says she's been writting checks to your company, but I know that she wasn't actually paying someone for ads. I figure she was using Alastair as a hitman of sorts and was trying to frame you, but after she realised that wouldn't work, she wanted to terrify you and wanted you to worry that he would come after you, I gaurentee it."  
Jimmy's eyes widened in shock as he tried to take this all in, though he smiled a bit, his eyes tearing up at the sound of his daughter's voice, glad to hear from her. "Claire," he started weakly, "Claire, God, you brilliant girl. Where are you, honey? Do you need me to help you?" Claire laughed a little bit, but seemed happy to hear the offer.  
"No, Dad, I'm fine. Judging by the GPS on your phone - which you should really turn off, by the way, the cops might see it - it says that you're in Arkansas, so it seems like we're kind of taking seperate vacations for a while. I'm still in Kansas, but I'm probably gonna blow town soon. I'll make my way to Kentucky and you and Mister Winchester can meet me there."  
Jimmy couldn't believe what he was hearing, his head spinning out of control. "Claire," he snapped quietly. "You are not going to go off by yourself, god damn it." He never swore in front of his daughter, but the situation seemed appropriate. "I am not going to sit by and set you go off on some wild runaway trip to Kentucky! Me and Dean are grown men and we can handle ourselves, but you are a child. Go to the police and let them find someone to take care of you. Or go to your grandmother's! I know that she's going on eighty-five, but she'll at least be there for you to look after you. Please, Claire!"  
Claire smiled and sighed, looking out the window of the bus she was on. "Sorry, Dad, I'm already on my way. I promise no hitchhiking. I have more than enough money for the bus and taxi fares, so don't worry about it." Jimmy covered his face with his hands, shaking his head.  
"Claire, I swear to God... You'd better meet us in Kentucky and you had better be in once piece or so help me..." Claire chuckled and Jimmy couldn't help but smile. "You're a smart girl, Claire. I know you can take care of yourself out there, but... Baby, I'm worried about you. Please be careful." Claire agreed that she would and they said their goodbyes, Jimmy hanging up and Dean giving him a questioning look as he started to pull his clothes on.  
"That was Claire," Jimmy explained. "She's on the run and she's going to meet us in Kentucky. How do I turn the GPS off on this thing?" Dean sighed and took the device from him, pants only halfway pulled up his legs as he toyed with the phone. He handed it back after a moment and smiled at him, finishing up with pulling his clothes on. Jimmy put the phone in his pocket, thanking his boyfriend and heading off to get a shower, which Dean realised he should probably also do. He undressed again and got into the shower with Jimmy, simply stepping in with no warning, making Jimmy jump. He blushed horribly, covering himself up with his hands. It was one thing to have sex with someone, but something entirely diffrent to shower with him. Jimmy seemed uncomfortable, but he calmed down a bit as Dean turned around to wash his hair. Jimmy struggled to not feel weird about the situation, going about his shower more or less as usual, pretending that Dean wasn't there until he wrapped his arms around his waist, making him jump and whimper. Dean smiled and kissed at the back of Jimmy's neck, lapping up the beads of water running down his skin and sucking dark bruises over his shoulders. Jimmy chuckled after a moment, Dean's hands slipping down to play with his cock and making Jimmygasp quietly. The two stood under the hot spray of the shower for a long time, toying and teasing with each other. Once they got out, both had cum and were satisfied, the two of them drying off and going back into the main room. They dressed and went outside to get into the Impala, Dean turning the key and pulling onto the highway. They started on their long way to Kentucky then, though Jimmy rapidly grew bored. He eventually settled on reaching over to run a hand up and down Dean's thigh, making him blush. He asked what he was doing, but Jimmy answered by running a finger over his crotch, squeezing at him gently through his jeans. Dean let out a soft gasp, his legs flying up and his foot coming off the pedal, the car making a strange, awkward lurch in responce, though Dean managed to push the pedal back down and keep the car going. Jimmy purred and was happy to see him respond like this, though he whispered in his ear that he had a surprise, which someone made Dean nervous. Jimmy leaned down, unzipping his fly and pulling out his cock, sucking him off rather distractingly. Dean struggled not to let the car swerve, but he managed to keep it under control, even as he came onto Jimmy's face as his boyfriend pulled back to take the whole load. He looked up at Dean with a smile, purring softly, and got out a wad of tissues from the glovebox, cleaning himself up and tucking Dean's cock back into his boxers, zipping him up and kissing his cheek, Dean keeping along the road without missing a beat. Dean smiled for a while as he drove, Jimmy leaning against the window next to him and drifting off to sleep, sniffling a litttle as he rested. By the time he woke up, they had gotten a bit further, but he had only been able to stay under for about twenty minutes before being awoken by an uncomfortable pressure in his stomach. He sat up and put a hand to his abdomen, groaning softly as a wave of nausea hit him. Dean didn't seem to notice, so Jimmy jabbed him in the shoulder. "Hey," he muttered sleepily, hoping he wouldn't vomit before he could tell Dean, "I really need you to pull over."  
Dean laugehd, obviously showiung that he assumed Jimmy meant for there to be more roadside shenanigans, but Jimmy choking the words "car sick" and his face turning seriously green was enough of a sign that that wasn't what this was about. The two got out, Jimmy leaning over with his hands on his knees, breathing heavily as he fought not to vomit. By the time Dean had walked around to stand next to him and rub his back, Jimmy was already retching violently, splattering a rather unappealing greenish yellow fluid over the grass. Dean smiled over at him and rubbed his back the whole time, waiting until he was finished up and helping to wipe his face off with some of the spare tissues still in the glovebox. Jimmy smiled in gratitude, eyes widening a bit as Dean leaned in to kiss his lips gently. Dean purred and walked back around to the other side of the car, instructing Jimmy to also get back in, promising that he would stop somewhere soon to get him something to help with the nausea, saying that they had too far to go in too little time for them to stop for the day just because Jimmy wasn't feeling well. He tried to understand, though he was a bit unhappy. He got his medicine a few hours later, dramamine to notonly sooth him stomach a bit, but also to help him sleep a little better than he had been. He took it with a huff, trying to argue to Dean that he really ddidn't feel like he could get through the day on only the medication and insisted that he was just going to get sick again later when it wore off, but Dean reminded him by the time it would have done just that to take another dose as to prevent what Jimmy had tried to use as an excuse. He was a hit angry about it, but he realised that Dean was right. From Kansas City to Lexington, Kentucky - on a direct route and not the strange one they had been taking- was a nine hour drive at the most, but they had turned it into almost a week long affair and they needed to hurry up and get there anyway. He understood what was at stake, but that didn't mean he would just suddenly stop wanting a day off from being stuck in the cramped car, especially since his boyfriend and traveling companion didn't exactly like to watch what he ate and was often gassy. Jimmy pretended to the best of his ability that he didn't mind it, simply rolling down a window and trying to fight his way through it, Dean laughing the whole time as he watched Jimmy more or less shove his whole head out the window to get away from him. Despite this, and the clutter that Dean would often leave laying in the floorboard, he honestly didn't mind it that much, being with him almost every moment of the day. Eventually, though, the two of them started to get under each others' skin, Dean getting fed up with Jimmy sleeping so much instead of talking to him, making him turn down the radio, and especially his occasional, though much less frequent, bouts of motion sickness and vomiting. Jimmy of course got angry with Dean for waking him up, keeping the radio on so loud, being generally obnoxious and of course also the aformentioned offences. On the day Dean expected them to finally reach Kentucky, they stopped at a gas station where Jimmy decided to buy himself a pack of cigarettes, thinking that if there was ever a good time to start this filthy habit back up, it was probably now. Dean didn't know what to make of it when he saw the pack in his lover's hands, Jimmy contemplating the contents quietly and thoughtfully, almost looking revrent. Dean walked out of the gas station and returned to the Impala, where Jimmy was leaning against the hood waiting for him. The two had woken up with a bit of an argument, but things had seemed to calm down a bit as they drove the highways. Dean seemed a bit concerned as he approached his boyfriend, contemplating snatching the cigarettes away from him and playing keep away, but decided against it. He had previously hooked on them, though, and warned Jimmy of the same fate, assuming it was his first pack in his life, though Jimmy simply laughed and responded by saying that he'd been there and done that long ago. Dean nodded, secretly thinking of bumming a cig and a light off of him and starting up once again himself, but instead instructed that they get back in the car and start on their way again. He warned Jimmy of one last thing in a last ditch effort to get him to not light up, telling him that smoking in the car might make his motion sickness a lot worse. Jimmy thought of having a double dose of dramamine to keep that from happening, but assumed that it would lead to nothing but danger on his part and instead simply lit up, rolling down the window to let the smoke vent out. He took a long drag on the cig and breathed out, the smoke wafting out the window and into the winter breeze gently rolling by the car as they drove. Dean struggled to ignore the urge to ask for one, but eventually he caved, reaching for the pack and the lighter and steering the car with his elbows as he lit it. He rolled down the window and took a long drag, Jimmy looking over and smiling. "So, am I temping you, Dean?" he asking teasingly, coughing softly, his lungs not used to this after being clean of the habit for ten years. Dean smiled back and said that yes, Jimmy was a horrible succubus and was temping him, leading him astray. Jimmy was strangely happy to hear that and took another few long drags before tossing the butt of the cigarette out the window. Dean took a bit longer with finishing his own, but threw it out soon enough after. The reached Kentucky within the hour, but Jimmy realised he had no idea how to tell Claire they had arrived or where she would be. They tried to think of something, but as they were discussing it, Jimmy's phone started to vibrate loudly in his pocket. He pulled it out and answered, holding it up to his ear without saying a word. Jimmy was unsurprised to hear the voice on the other end of the line, a somewhat high pitched female voice definatly belonging to his daughter.  
"Dad, I told you to turn the GPS off. Dean turned your internet off, I'm sure, but the GPS tracker is still up. I wouldn't expect you to get that, though, Dad; I remember distinctly that you used to have trouble working the toaster, so phones must be like some crap from Star Trek."  
Jimmy huffed softly and crossed his arms, but smiled despite himself. "Okay, alright, I get it you smarty pants. We're in Kentucky, but I'm sure you already knew that. You're probably a computer hacker in your spare time."  
Claire cracked her knuckles and smiled. "I might be. Anyway, Dad, I'm in Lexington. You guys are still a ways off, but you'll get here within the hour. I'll call you later, but I promise that I'm safe, okay? I can tell you're super worried." Jimmy smiled and tried to hide how actually worried he had been, but told her that he would try to worry more about her, thanking her for the call and agreeing to talk to her later. They hung up and Jimmy leaned back in his seat, rubbing his hands over his face. Dean smiled a bit at that, patting his knee. "I'm assuming that was Claire," he said, squeezing his knee and leaning in to him and kissing his cheek, steering with the other hand. Jimmy laughed softly and nodded, telling him what she had said and telling him to head to Lexington. Dean nodded and started on a diffrent road to get to the town Claire had mentioned. Dean had hardly ever been in Kentucky, though he had been in each state other than Hawaii or Alaska at some point, and he hardly remembered how to get to Lexington. After a while of wandering, Jimmy's phone began to ring loudly once more and he answered ith, assuming it was probably Claire again, calling to tell him that they were being idiots and needed to get on the correct road, but instead he was met with a frantic voice of panic.  
"Dad, hurry, I need you and Dean to get here, fast. Don't panic or anything, but I'm kind of in trouble. Please, get here fast."  
Panic rushed through Jimmy and his eyes snapped wide. He looked over to Dean, jabbing him in the ribs. "Claire's in trouble, Dean. Fucking step on it." Dean gave a nod, a look of terror to match Jimmy's own locked on his face as he slammed the gas pedal down to the floorboard. Claire laughed softly on the other end of the phone, though it was clear she was terrified of whatever situation she had gotten herself into.  
"Aw, don't worry about me, Dad. I'll be fine." The tone of her voice told Jimmy otherwise, though. He could tell that she was crying, but was smiling through her tears, trying to stay strong for her father. Jimmy clenched his jaw and tried to keep himself from crying. Claire let out a quiet sound of a half laugh, half sob, sniffling a bit. "Dad, I've gotta go, okay? No more change to make calls on these stupid pay phones. I'll talk to you later, though, right, Daddy?" He agreed, crying silently. Claire giggled softly, the sound of shouting from the other end of the phone. "Okay, Daddy, I'll talk to you later. Bye!"  
Jimmy smiled painfully and whispered, "bye-bye, baby", then heard the sound of the phone being dropped, shouting and screaming coming from the other end of the line. He nearly dropped his cell phone, looking over to Dean and screaming for him to hurry. By the time they made it to Lexington, finding the location Claire had told them about, it was far too late. There was a swarm of police cars around the hotel, yellow tape put up to block off the crime scene. There was a group of people outside the building, chattering nervously and in fear, the crowd close together like an anxious heard of sheep. Jimmy felt his blood run cold and he jumped out of the car even as it was still moving, though only slightly. Dean breaked the vehicle abruptly and followed him, following after Jimmy as he ran up to the police line, one of the officers pushing him back so that he couldn't cross. Jimmy was obviously hysterical, shouting mostly gibberish, but Dean came and pulled him away, trying to calm him down while asking the officer what had happened. The man explained that a young teenage girl was found dead, murdered in one of the rooms of the hotel, that she had been stabbed to death almost an hour ago. Jimmy shook as the man explained that the murderer was a conviced sex offender and had probably tried to rape her. Dean lead Jimmy away and sat down with him on the trunk of the car, holding him close as he sobbed into Dean's shoulder, Dean rubbing his boyfriend's back and trying to keep him calm. Jimmy slowly got more hysterical, but he still let Dean lead him to the passanger side of the car and put him in, climbing into the driver's seat and starting to drive. Jimmy ended up quieting himself after a few minutes of sobbing, Dean pulling out a pack of tissues and handing it to him. Jimmy took them greatfully, cleaning himself up, dabbing at his eyes every once in a while from there on as he started to silently cry more. After a while of driving, Jimmy asked Dean where they were headed, Dean reporting that they were going to be arriving in Ohio within a few hours time, telling Jimmy to lay back in his seat and take it easy, understanding that he must be in horrible shock.  
Dean drove on in silence for hours on end, reaching the boarder of Ohio and crossing into the state, continuing on until he decided it was time to stop for food. Jimmy had been silent the whole time, sitting nenxt to him and staring ahead blankly, shaking and sniffling every once in a while, continuing to occasionally dab at his eyes. Dean pulled up ato a diner and smiled over at his boyfriend, but Jimmy hardly so much as glanced over. Dean sighed and rubbed Jimmy's back for a second, asking if he'd like to come into the diner with him or if he'd like for Dean to pick him up something. Jimmy scratched absently at a growing hive on his forearm, asking Dean to bring something back for him. Dean agreed and got out of the car, heading into the building and ordering something for himself and his boyfriend. He thanked the woman who brought him the food, ready to go, and returned to the car to give Jimmy his food. Jimmy was going to get out the burger he had been given and eat it then and there, but Dean insisted that he wait until Dean got to the motel and the could sit down together. Jimmy shrugged and did as he was told, coming into the motel with him and sitting down on the side of the bed, pulling out the food once more and starting in on it, Dean sitting about with him and eating as quickly as possible. The two sat about for a bit after they'd finished eating, Jimmy laying down and curling up a bit, hiding a bit behind his hair. He sighed and fell asleep after a while, Dean watching television as he let Jimmy rest. After a while, though, Jimmy woke up and went into the bathroom, coming back in after a moment and sitting down next to Dean on the other side of the bed. He leaned against his boyfriend, watching the televison with him for a moment before requesting that he turn it off, which Dean gladly did. He looked over to Jimmy and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, kissing his forehead as lightly and gently as he could. He reminded him that he loved him, which seemed to make him feel at least a tiny bit better, but the smile on his face was shrouded with pain. The two of them sat there in silence for a while before Dean suggested that they hit the road again. Jimmy agreed and got up with Dean to gather their things and go out into the car. Dean asked if Jimmy wanted to drive, but Jimmy politely declined. He got into the car, on the passanger side, letting Dean drive them to the next city. They drove for several hours, Dean announcing that they were going to be reaching the next state after a while. Jimmy asked for a map and Dean produced one, handing it to him and letting Jimmy unfold it, finding their current location with some guidance from his boyfriend, finding that their next destination would be the state of Pensylvania. Jimmy nodded in satisfaction and put away the paper after that, happy that he had been able to figure it out this time instead of having to have Dean tell him. Dean teased him a bit for not being able to find his own way on a map, but Jimmy reminded him that Dean had done tons of travling in his time and Jimmy was more or less of a house cat. Dean was happy to agree to that, envying him quietly for his lifestyle of staying in one place for such a long time, but he didn't say anything to the effect. He smiled to himself a bit and asked Jimmy if he could turn on the radio. Jimmy said that it was fine by him, turning on the radio and finding a song on the side of slower and softer than what he typically listened to, making sure that it wasn't too grim a subject being sung about. Luckily, Jimmy seemed to feel more calm with the song playing, leaning back against the back of his seat and resting his head against the window, trying to get a bit of rest. He was woken up a few hours later by Dean, who reminded him to take another dose of dramamine. Jimmy did so greatfully, thanking him for reminding him because he would have otherwise forgotten about it and probably would have gotten ill once again. Dean smiled and watched Jimmy for a moment, glancing over at the street every so often cautiously, though there weren't many cars currently populating the highway. The man next to him drifted off only a few moments later, Dean turning his attention back to the road, paying more attention. He drove for a while longer before pulling into a motel and proding his lover awake. Jimmy sniffled and sat up, shaking his head a bit to try to wake himself up, though the medicine he took for his motion sickness made him drowsy and he found it hard to wake up. Dean patted his knee and got out of the car, coming around to Jimmy's side of the car and holding the door open for him, helping him climb out and leading him into the motel, getting them a room and leading him there. He lay his boyfriend down in the bed and lay next to him, kissing him a few times before stripping his clothes off, JImmy undressing himself lazily as well. Dean helped his boyfriend under the covers and they lay together for a long while in silence, Dean's arms wrapped around Jimmy. Jimmy seemed to struggle not to cry and Dean worried if maybe he should say something or ask if he was alright, but Jimmy actually spoke first before Dean could get a word in. Jimmy simply asked him if he could scoot closer to him, which Dean gladly did, pulling him in and kissing him several times on the back of the neck. The two of them stayed there for a while that way, Jimmy eventually calming a bit. Dean ran his hands up and down Jimmy's arms, worrying as he felt the hives he had seen earlier, though they seemed to have swollen up even worse than before. Dean eventually wrapped his arms around Jimmy again and nuzzled into his shoulder, trying not to cry but ending up failing. Jimmy turned around to look at him, hearing his quiet sobs and feeling his wavering breath against his skin. He turned and kissed Dean's forehead gently. He smiled at his lover as Dean looked up at him, turning to him fully and gently caressing his face. Dean seemed to cheer up a little at this, but he still sniffled and his eyes still leaked against his well. Jimmy asked him what was wrong, Dean looking away a little as he answered. "I feel a little stupid about it, if I'm honest. I mean, she... she was your daughter, not mine. I'm just so sorry that this happened. To her, and to you. Neither of you could have done anything to deserve this." He leaned his head back against Jimmy's shoulder and started to cry again,, his shoulders shaking as he tried not to sob. Jimmy pulled Dean in close and kissed his forehead, burrying his nose into his hair and also started to cry, smiling a bit despite his sadness and almost delighting in he and Dean both laying there in misery consoling each other. Dean eventually cried himself to sleep, drifting off not long after he had curled himself up in his lover's arms, comforted by their contact. Jimmy well and truely started to cry then, as he noticed that Dean wouldn't see. He sobbed into his boyfriend's hair for a while before he was so weak and tired from crying that he finally drifted off as well, the two of them laying there breathing against the other's skin. Jimmy was somewhat troubled by nightmares, but never thrashed from it or woke up. Instead, the situation in the dream which he found disturbing eventually resolved itseld and the dream continued on as being pleasent. Dean didn't dream at all that night, and was content by the blackness that awaited as he slept.  
As Dean awoke the next morning, he looked around and noticed that Jimmy wasn't there, sitting up and stretching. He noticed that the light was on under the bathroom door, basically the only light in the room even though it was hardly eight in the morning, the blinds pulled tightly shut and making the room dim, tossing dark shadows to every corner. Jimmy came out of the bathroom after a moment, steam pouring out after him as he strolled out, patting his hair dry and smiling up at Dean as he noticed him there. He had obviously been in the shower, which Dean thought would also be a good idea for himself, getting up and going into the bathroom to do so, kissing Jimmy as he passed him. He came back out to see Jimmy packing up his bags, mostly ready to get back on the road. Dean tilted his head and asked him what the rush was, but Jimmy explained that since they had stopped at the crime scene, they had been seen by the police and likely many other people who could have recognised them, meaning that they needed to get the hell out of the area as quickly as they possibly could. Dean agreed, also suggesting that they change the licecnse plate on the car. Jimmy nodded and told him that they would go about it as soon as they got outside. The two of them sat and discussed their next destination for a moment, then going outside and telling Jimmy to ge t into the car and wait. Jimmy did as he was told, watching Dean go over to a nearby car and carefully remove the license plate, swapping it out for the one on their car and putting their old one into the trunk under their things. Jimmy smiled, noticing he chose a licence plate from Alaska, which was probably a rare find and Jimmy felt that maybe fate had chosen to help them out for once. The two of them took off to the highway after that, driving for hours on end until they made their way into New York. Jimmy had never been into a big city in his life before, so this trip was turning out to be rather eye opening, their stops in New York being the largest cities they had visited so far. They stopped at the first city on their way in for Dean to get lunch for them and fill the car with gasoline, then again in New York, New York to stop for the night. However, as they entered the motel. a television sitting on the counter was just describing the murder that had gone on, mentioning that the two men suspected of the murder had last been seen in Kentucky and were likely headed north. To make it worse, they showed a picture of both of them, catching the attention of everyone in the room who had seen, Jimmy and Dean becoming uncomfortably aware of all eyes in the room focusing on them. They slipped back out and hurried into the car as the receptionist of the motel picked up the phone, dialing three familiar numbers. Dean started up the car and got onto the highway as soon as he could, heading back south, intending to make it back to Pennsylvania. The only problem, however, was that the police had been told the direction they went in and were on their trail. They eventually realised they would have to find somewhere to stash the Impala and find a less recognisable car. Dean found a place in Pennsylvania to stash her, praying to any god listening that she stay safe. He found one to hotwire as soon as he was sure no one could see, hopping into the pickup truck and gripping the wheel tight, assessing the purr of the engine running through the seat underneath him. He had purpousfully chosen a model that he knew was made with a powerful engine, one that had a good capacity for horse power. Despite how much he loved his Impala, the truck he had chosen was a rather good vehicle and he was happy to listen to the roaring purr of her engine as he sped her down the highway, heading to Virginia. Jimmy quickly found himself needing another dose of dramamine, his head spinning a bit from the speed of Dean's driving, the inconsistant and bumpy road, and especially the feeling of being in such a diffrent vehicle. He fell asleep for a while, leaning against the window, but was awoken only a few hours later by Dean, who informed him that they had just reached the border leading into North Carolina, telling him that they would be stopping for the night and were going to a motel as they spoke. He prompted Jimmy to wake up, but he mostly just grumbled unhappily, so Dean eventually had to prod him awake as he parked in front of the motel. Jimmy was reluctant to but Dean got him up anyway, more or less having to lead him in, as Jimmy was still drowsy beyond got them a room and brought him into their room. Jimmy lay down and drifted off, Dean going prepair himself for the next few days to come. He showered and went out to buy snacks and drinks for the road, hoping it would mean they would have to stop less often so they could put more distance between themselves and the place they had been last spoted. He lay down in the bed with Jimmy after that, the two of them laying there for a few hours as Jimmy slept soundly, Dean switching on the television after a while and trying to find something to entertain himself with until his boyfriend came around. Jimmy woke a few hours later, sniffling and yawning as he woke from his nap. He turned to wrap his arms around Dean, squeezing him to him tightly and nuzzling into his neck. It didn't take long for Dean to fall asleep next to Jimmy. Once his boyfriend was asleep, Jimmy excused himself to the bathroom, though by the time he cmae out he had a terrible headache due to his schizophrenia acting up, not only by the stress it caused him, but also because of the trembling and darkening of his vision, the figures flashing before his eyes so quickly that it made his head pound. He prodded his sleeping boyfriend, who wasn't very amused at having been woken up, though Dean took back his harsh tone once he heard Jimmy's reasoning. Jimmy asked if they had any medicine which might help his head hurt less, Deam saying that they did and getting up to go get a pill bottle from his bag, handing it to Jimmy and then going to lay back down, grumbling tiredly. Jimmy took two of the pills and lay back down next to his boyfriend, wrapping his arms around him once again and squeezing his eyes shut, trying to stay still and silent despite his head pounding unpleasently. Eventually it calmed down, though he still wasn't feeling altogether well once his headache had gone. He kept his forehead against Dean's back, trying desperatly to sleep but finding it impossible, haunted by memories of what had happened to his daughter and having nightmares of he and Dean being caught by the police. He was eventually pushed away by Dean, whom he had accidently woken up again, because apparently he had been gripping his shirt so hard that he was starting to dig his finger nails into Dean's skin. He hissed and swatted Jimmy away, saying it was nothing personal but that it just hurt and he couldn't sleep with that going on. Jimmy nodded and said that he understood, trying to not feel hurt as he turned over, his back against Dean's. He sighed and gathered a pillow to his chest, holding it firmly and insisting on clawing into it as much as he damn well pleased because the pillow couldn't force him away from it. He felt bad about being angry at Dean, understanding that he was only asking him to stop because Jimmy was actually causing him pain, but Jimmy was still a bit hurt by it. He sighed and got up to go and find the cigarettes and lighter in his bag, announcing to Dean that he was going to go outside and have a smoke. He stepped out of their room, standing on the balcony outside and pulling out a cig. He lit it up and took a few long drags, blowing the smoke into the crisp wing. He leaned against the railing of the balcony, watchingn the street as he stood there smoking. There were scarcely cars out at the time, though a few did zip by. He hardly expected that he would see another living soul that night besides Dean, but he was proven wrong not long after. Just after he finished his smoke, tossing the butt of it over the balcony, he heard a distant howling, very faint and slowly growing louder. It took him much longer than he would have liked to realise what the sound was. Police sirens.


	10. Chapter Nine

Jimmy rushed back into the hotel room as quickly as he could, frantically shaking Dean awake and trying to ignore the way he began shouting at him in his tired rage. Jimmy explained at once that he was outside and heard sirens coming this way, saying that they should be careful because there were three guesses as to who was coming, and really any of those could probably be the end of their lives as free men, and in Dean's situation as a murderer of sorts, maybe the end of his life period.  
Dean sat up, understanding what was wrong now and calming down, glad that Jimmy had woken him now that he knew the situation. He stood and gathered his things as quickly as possible, getting dressed quickly and both of them running out to the car and getting in. Dean started up the truck and started off down the highway, but it seemed that they weren't going to be so lucky this time. As Dean sped down the road, he heard the roar of a helicopter following after them, his eyes going wide with fear as he realised without any doubt that the police were catching on and they didn't have much of a chance now to escape. Jimmy was hardly able to keep himself from screaming, the blue and red lights flashing behind them from the police cruisers, a spotlight from the helicopter trained on their truck as they tried desperately to flee. Things were already looking grim and Dean expected that at some point along the road, the police had probably placed down spike strips to stop them, but Dean kept driving with conviction, praying somewhat that they would be able to power through somehow in the end.  
This hope was unsurprisingly in vain. The spike strips Dean had expected were, in fact, there. There was nothing they could do as the truck ran over the sharp spikes, tires popping with a violent sound, hardly even audible over the sirens and the sound of helicopter blades pounding the air. Once the truck could no longer drive on its rims and slowed to a halt, the two men inside were forced to resign rhemselves to their fates. The police cruisers surrounded them and officers swarmed out, weapons pointed to them as they got out of the vehicle. Dean was tempted to try to run but knew that it would only make matters worse, instead letting the officers cuff him and shove him into one of the cruisers, the same being done to Jimmy. They were driven to the police station, locked in seperate cells to wait for their trial the next day. They were appointed a lawyer, who spoke with both of them. They gave the same stories, telling the whole truth about the events of that day. The two of them had honestly given up on the idea that either of them would ever be freed and didn't hold much hope of not being convicted of something. Neither of them slept at all that night and they were gotten up early, taken to the courthouse to be tried for their crimes. They were both honest the whole time, glancing over at each over reassuringly whenever they could, both of them trying to stay hopeful, even as it started to look even more like they were going to be convicted. It took the jury two days to return a verdict on their case, Dean and Jimmy waiting restlessly in the jail they had been taken to. Jimmy was honestly on the brink of insanity by the time they were told that the jury had finally returned their verdict. They were once again brought back into court, both of them looking like hell by the time they arrived. Jimmy had obviously been tearing at his hair, his body bruised from thrashing during nightmares. Dean could hardly hold his head up, his eyes bloodshot and dark bags under his lower lids, making it obvious he hadn't slept in a few days. He and Jimmy both sat as still as they possibly could, Dean struggling not to fall asleep where he sat as they waited to hear the verdict. It came back soon after, their fates soon sealed by the decisions of the jury.  
Dean was found guilty of first degree murder, the news of which caused a small riot of shouts until the judge banged the gavel and demanded silence, the court falling into an angry, tense quiet. Dean had risen to his feet in anger and fear, shaking. He sat back down and stay as still and silent as he could bring himself to. It seemed to make sense to the jurors that since Amelia was such a balanced, loving, caring person by nature as stated by many people who knew her, and since Dean was thought by many to be crazy and impulsive and violent, it was likely in their opinions that Dean had been the one to instigate the attack, and because Jimmy loved him so much, it was likely that he had been happy to lie to protect him. Since Dean would likely have wanted Amelia gone if he wanted to live with Dean and Claire in pease. It was of course completely possilbe that Amelia tried to kill Dean for about the exact same reason, but of course since Amelia was so rational and Dean was so crazy, it must have been Dean that instigated it. He could have screamed if it weren't for the fact that he would have probably been escorted out without getting to see what would happen with the rest of the trial. Jimmy's own verdict was given just after. He was given a charge of aiding and abetting, though was told that he would be free to go, as he was confirmed as not being a danger by the doctors who had cared for him at the hospital he had gone to. They were told that Dean was to be put to death, though Jimmy was free to go. Jimmy and Dean both sat there in silent shock, the crowd of observers roaring all around them until the judge ordered silence. Dean was lead out of the court room, as well as Jimmy, and they were taken back to the police station, Jimmy choosing to stay there with Dean until his execution.  
Once the time finally came for Dean to be put to death, he kept his head high and walked with exceptional grace and poise, showing no fear or hesitation. He intended to look death in the face and not give anyone the satisfaction of seeing him react to it except Jimmy.  
Jimmy was to be present for the execution, waiting in an observation room as Dean was given the lethal injection. He stood there in hysterics as he watched Dean being strapped down to the table, Dean looking over and smiling at him, mouthing "I love you", Jimmy having just enough time to return the phrase before Dean's head was strapped back, eyes up to the ceiling. Dean was given the first injection and Jimmy could almost feel a needle shoved into his own arm, his stomach giving an angry churn of fear and hatred. Dean's eyes widened and a look of pain set in before he froze in place, his whole body burning but his limbs unable to move. Every muscle felt frozen and locked in place, making his heart race as he knew what was coming. The second injection was much worse, leading to an almost unbearable pain. Dean tried to scream or writhe or make any movement or reaction whatsoever, but he was locked in place still, laying there in unimaginable agony until finally the blessing of death came, his heart bursting from strain.  
Jimmy covered his mouth with his hands, breathing heavily and trying to keep himself from screaming as he watched. Even just having died, Dean's body looked almost locked in rigor mortis as it lay frozen by the drugs he had been injected with. He shook and sobbed quietly, but eventually managed to calm himself down, at least on the outside. He dried his tears and slowed his breathing, though his throat felt closed and choked, his chest feeling as if it was collapsing. He let his back straighted and his posture become powerful as he was lead out by the police guarding him through the building. He smiled to himself as he walked, huffing. He looked to the officer walking beside him and reached over to snatch something from him. He grabbed the pistol off of the man's belt, every gun in the room turning to point and take aim at him, Jimmy chuckling softly as they screamed for him to drop the weapon. He shook his head and held his hands up innocently, the pistol held loosely in his grasp. "Gentlemen," he said softly, looking aorund at them all, pointing the pistol at himself "trust me, there's no need for this. Only one of us has to die here today."


End file.
